The Good, The Bad, and the Joker
by Ea Larson
Summary: Of course because of the holiday, I had nothing planned. And when nothing is planned, almost anything could happen. And since absolutely anything could happen, my story begins.
1. Thanksgiving More Like Thankstaking

It was the day after Thanksgiving when it all happened. My Dad, my little sister Regan and I were at his house were preparing another feast. That year my mum had us on the holiday, but that weekend my dad had us, so we were having a feast of our own with more entertainment. I wasn't very spirited that day. I really didn't want to weigh 20 more pounds after all the fat I lost swimming the past three weeks. Unfortunately for me, I had no choice. My dad insisted to have us, though my big sister Paige got out of it because of a state football game for her college, and wouldn't be getting back till four o'clock the next morning.

Of course because of the holiday, I had nothing planned. All my friends were out of town or they too had been forced into quality family time. I wouldn't be seeing them till the following Monday at school. Lucky me. I died of boredom many times when I was at my Dad's.

As I was saying, my sister and I were busying ourselves with chores to fix up the house before the guests came. The only person my age that would be coming over would be my step-cousin Christian. And the last time he came over, well, he got himself in trouble behind our neighbor's house. So I really didn't want to be around the idiot that much. My Uncle Chris and Aunty Mary were coming, as well as a few other older people, but they would be busy talking about politics and boring stuff like that with my Dad. The only two other people that didn't belong to the other groups were my little sister and my little step-cousin Tory, Christian's biological sister.  
Tory was adorable, and looked like a five year old rather than her true age at nine. She had this high pitched voice and a very girly perspective on things. The only thing I really did with her was act like a mother. Over the summer we went camping by this mucky mucky lake and by the end her hair was icky. But I enjoyed doing her hair. She had short silky hair, which I envied because of my annoying curly hair, and I was able to style it fairly easily. Each morning she was with us after the camp, I'd style it in a new way, and then go on my bike somewhere. She wouldn't follow me, because what I did wasn't much of an interest to her. Anything I did wasn't usually an interest to anyone else anyways.

So as we cleaned I turned up my Rock It Out Playlist on my I-pod. All the tunes that had the best hard rock beat was on there. I listen to it a lot, since I wasn't capable of getting any more songs on I-tunes due the fact that I lacked I-tunes gift cards. And while that played, my mind wandered to my La-la Land and daydreamed. Each song had a different dream. Chop Suey by A System of the Down I was a punk guitarist, and my favorite dream. I also nicknamed it "The Joker's Theme Song". It was dark and hardcore enough to be that way. I had a Swiffer mop in my hands when it came on and I started to act like it was a guitar, banging my head up and down. Unluckily for me, I needed a haircut and wouldn't be getting one till the next day after the Saturday morning swim practice. My thick curly hair was up in a pony-tail and it whipped my face with every jerk forward into my face.

I cursed lightly underneath my breath and dropped the mop. I could hear Regan laughing behind me.

"That was dumb," she chuckled and walked to the sink to fill up a bucket of water. I glared at her and picked up the mop.

"Unless you want to have my hair whipped in your face, then I'd be quiet," I hissed. She scoffed and dragged the bucket behind her. As bratty as she was, I really wouldn't threaten her like that. She was an all around gymnast. Five out of the seven days a week, she was at a gymnastics place that had trained an Olympian not long ago. To make a long story short, she was a muscle bond little girl that could flip me onto my back any time she wanted.

But she lacked what I had, skill and experience in fighting. I didn't get into fights at school, but no one ever bothered me in a bad mood. I was more than what met the eye. I had decked a guy before because he kept yanking my hair in the hall way, and he came away with a broken nose. I didn't get in trouble because he was harassing me, and that week I was having the monthly monster we girls have.

In 7th and 8th grade I had a boyfriend that taught me self defense. He wasn't the best boy friend to have, but I came away learning something. Also in the house my Dad had at the time there was a boxing thingy-bah-bobber in my room. I'd spend at least a n hour a day punching it or practicing my kicks. I even had a pair of gloves, which got lost in the transition to the new house. But that didn't matter. I could punch without them.

I also could wrestle like no other. Growing up with cousins as a tomboy, hung out with mostly boys till the whole cootie thing appeared in 3rd grade, my friend Abby that had a little autistic brother that could wrestle the heck out anyone, and finally a step sister a year younger that Regan that thought she was one tough piece of shit helped learning how to move correctly and get out of other grasps. Lexy, the ex-stepsister, was the biggest help. She annoyed me so much that I'd wallop her and I'd tackle her. Her mum didn't care, she just laughed. Not many people in the family really cared if we beat each other up. Lexy didn't have much of a chance. She was too arrogant to recognize defeat and I'd give her bruises if she taunted me too much. It's not like I wanted to kill her. She thought it was a game while I was trying to show her that she shouldn't mess with me. Once I had busted her lip tackling her to the ground and she also got away with a nose bleed, she finally got the idea I could seriously mess her up.

Once I finished mopping the floors I had nothing else to do besides wait. My Dad left to get last minute groceries and I had no idea when either he or the guests were coming. I goofed around a little on the internet and listened to my music while staring at the ceiling.

Then of course, my Dad comes home. He rushed me out of my room and had me get food ready. I was pouring salsa into a dish for tortilla chips when someone at the front door knocked. And then a big, "HEY UUP PEOPLE!"  
I groaned. It wasn't the worst of my biological cousins, but the rowdiest of them, Brennan. I remembered the summer we spent with him and he dragged me across the carpet. Had a lot of rug burns that year and learned to jump when people tried to grab my feet. But now that I'm tougher, he doesn't mess around much and I don't see him since he's out of high school. His brothers Ryan and Logan, the identical twins, were probably not coming. Ryan was in college and I had no idea where Logan, who already finished his filming school. They were cool, just never got to see them much except for family gatherings over the summer.

Once Brennan and his girlfriend Mel made their entrance, there was a bunch of hollering of greetings and hugs. I gave them a hug each but then busied myself with a new task, making fruit platters and then to peeling potatoes. I really didn't mind the jobs, just the fact then when I had finally peeled and chopped up nine out of the fifteen potatoes, everyone else was sitting around a fire outside and were having a grand ole' time.

By the time I was done and finally my Dad came in to prepare the rest of dinner, the rest of the people came. I was lucky not to be pounced on my all the people wanting to give me a hug. I would have suffocated. There was just too many of them. In silence I went t downstairs and blasted the music. Chop Suey blasted again and I was content with just staring at the ceiling. No one was going to bother me, my music level would have annoyed most of them.

I was singing along with my songs when I somehow heard someone coming down the stairs. Well it sounded more like someone was charging down the stairs like rhinos.

'Oh dear god.' I thought then rolled back over. I needed entertainment, not rhinos.

My door burst open with Christian there, the same bored expression I must have had on my face. He plopped on to my bed and grumbled something inaudible.

"What?" I growled.

"Dinner is ready," he grumbled again, lifting his head slightly. I stood up and then fetched my I-pod and earphones.  
Food. Though my stomach was growling along with me, I trudged up the stairs. I could hear the laughter and squeals of every one.  
I reached for the knob when all of a sudden, I heard a gunshot and a scream, and then everything went quiet. I slowly opened the door, turned off the lights and heard Christian come up behind me. Everyone was stock still and those who were standing looked like statues, frozen in time forever.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," a chiming voice came from the entrance hallway. I automatically knew who it was. The Joker. Funny that he'd show up here. There wouldn't be any reason for him to be here of all places. His footsteps tapped towards the kitchen. He appeared around the corner with the gun pointed towards the ceiling. I looked over my shoulder to see Christian going back down the stairs. I was about to shush him when he slipped down the rest of the stairs. About five or six steps, I wasn't sure, but all I knew was that my blood froze. Slowly I turned my head and saw someone blocking the light from the gap in the door way.

'Oh shit.' I cursed in my head.

"Well hello girly," the Joker's voice came as he opened the door.

Squinting from the light as the door flew open and trying to plaster a grin on my face to hide my fear, I probably looked like an idiot.  
Today was not my day.

The Joker broke out into his hyena laugh and pulled me forward, and a couple guys in clown masks blundered down the stairs to retrieve Christian who was trying to run away. I shrugged away from him, crossing my arms and walking to the table. He quizzically looked at me and asked, "Why so serious?"

"I want to eat," I retorted bluntly, "How about you join us?"

He laughed, seemingly amused.

Next to me some one whispered, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Keeping us alive," I whispered back. I sat down and gestured for everyone to sit. Silently everyone sat, and the Joker sat at the head of the table and next to me. He had the other clowns leave and go find a bank somewhere and they needed to come back when he called. Every one sat down uneasily, but Regan wasn't fast enough and had to sit next to Joker and across from me. She was shaking slightly and I kept my composure. Regan of course wasn't able to keep her cool when pressures from scarier people came close to her bubble.

"Would you like a drink?" I asked the Joker. He smiled and I went over to cupboard and retrieved a glass for him. I set it on the opposite counter and asked him if he wanted wine or water.

"Water. And with ice," he replied, scanning his eyes over the nervous occupants of the table, pleased with their jumpiness. I took the glass and filled it with ice and then water. I walked back over to the opposite counter.

"Lemon slice?"

"Sure," he said. His eyes seemed to be scrutinizing me, studying my reactions. I walked back over to the refrigerator and searched for a lemon in the drawer. I brought one out and set it on the counter, and opened up the drawers, looking for a knife to slice them. And one to use in a sticky situation. I pulled two out at the same time to make it sound like I was only pulling out one.

If it was anyone else getting ready to wield a knife, I would have been worried. May be not if it was my uncle or my dad, but they already had their teeth chattering. Even though I didn't fight with knives, I knew how to wield them enough to at the least defend someone or somewhat pose a threat. It would be really scary if Regan had a knife. She wouldn't last long, well, neither would I, but I would definitely last longer than five seconds. I slipped the knife I wasn't using for the lemon into my sleeve. It was big enough for damage, but small enough to conceal without being found out.

I cut up the lemon and placed a slice on the edge of the glass, then held the knife up to where everyone could see. The Joker's eye brows rose slightly. I guess he was anticipating that I was going to do something with it, and not for cutting up the rest of the lemon. I slowly put it down on the counter, making the steel clatter against it for more dramatic effect and to make sure I had the Joker's attention. Also catching him off guard would be a key to survival. A wary Joker is not a beatable Joker.

I picked up the glass carefully with the hand opposite to the arm hiding the knife. I leaned over his shoulder and set the glass beside his left hand. Everyone else already had their drinks, but didn't sip from them. I really wasn't in the mood for getting up again to serve myself. No one moved, and the Joker's eyes darted around the table.

I sighed, "Let's eat. The food will get cold." And I served myself some lemon-walnut green beans. Slowly and cautiously, the rest of the family began to do the same. I passed the food to the Joker, whose eyes seemed fixed on Regan. She was trembling slightly, her eyes staring at her plate. She wouldn't look at him when he passed her a dish, instead just looked at me with wild scared eyes. The Joker looked amused with her actions.

"Do I make you nervous?" he asked, his voice dangerously amused. He lifted a small steak knife from where it was sitting on a napkin. He brought it to her cheek, and she froze in fear. My blood began to bubble in my veins.

"Do I? Hm?" he continued. I could see it press against her skin with out breaking it. She shivered slightly, and slowly nodded without scraping her cheek. He smiled and pressed a little harder, still not breaking the skin. But I wasn't going to let him get to the point of blood, where possibly he could get out of control.

"Stop," I said as calmly as I could. But he ignored me, still in his little psychotic world. Regan looked close to screaming, and I couldn't take it anymore.

I drew out the knife from my sleeve and slammed it onto the table with my hand gripping it horribly tight. The table shook slightly and Regan's eyes got even wider. I normally didn't get as dangerous with weapons, but this was her life I needed to defend.

The Joker's head had whisked around when he saw Regan's eyes not concentrating on him. When he saw the knife, his grin spread even wider, and his scars were squishing together slightly, but still formed the smile. Then he began to laugh. I flinched slightly, and noticed that the rest of the table – including Regan – scooted away.

'Gee guys, thanks.' I thought, and stared at the Joker, trying to keep a straight face. He had thrown his head back to laugh. But as he lowered it to look at me, I saw something in his eyes that struck me strange. His eyes weren't glistening with a dark humor, but seemed to be genuinely happy, almost like a child receiving the Christmas present of his or her dreams.

But I didn't loosen my grip on my knife. It could be a charade, and it could not be. And now he was wary that I would put up a fight. My hopes of hiding the knife as long as I could just died. I mentally kicked myself, but kept staring at him.

He kept chuckling as he inched his face closer to mine. His eyes were locked with mine, studying something, almost trying to look into my mind through my eyes. I didn't back down, who knows what would happen if I did. Was the Joker testing me for my defiance, and could my defiance save the others?

He was the one to look away, slowly looking down at my lips. He got to close though. I wasn't going to be a toy. He laughed, backed away, back into his seat and winked.

"Let's eat," he said and shoveled a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. Suddenly the tenseness in the room fell like weights.

Everyone slowly ate, still cagey and waiting for another move. But it never came. The Joker just kept eating and babbling about other things. Strangely enough, I was slightly paying attention. I had lost interest in my food, for it had gotten cold while I was facing him.

My knife had been set no the table, but not too far away from where I could get it. The Joker showed no sign of being ready to attack. But normally when I took a chance or risk, it never turned out for the best. Every one else was leaving the table, babbling on about how hey were stuffed and in response the Joker would dismiss them like a mother would. He must have felt all high and mighty for the smile on his face was that of arrogance. When it was just us he began to question me.

"Are you not afraid of me girly?" he asked.

"No, you're too predictable," I replied. I acted more interested in playing with the peas on my plate.

"Oh really?" he mused. I looked up, confused by the tone. His face was close again, and when I looked up made it seem closer.

A problem I always had was blushing. With Irish/Scottish skin, I blushed easily, and redder than most people. And I did it so often. Even though my personality seemed more like an I-could-care-less-what-you-think-about-me personality, I still had that problem. Even in a creepy situation like this. He chuckled slightly and he placed a finger on the upper part of my jaw, close to my ear. He traced a line from that point to my lips, then across my tight lips to the other side of my jaw. He was tracing a smile like his scars. I slowly backed away.

Here, I couldn't act or hide the emotion in my eyes. I was awe struck, almost freaked out. Though the rest of my body may have kept a calm composure, I felt like all that one emotion I had been hiding the whole time was acting like a lighthouse in my eyes.

"And there we go. You're finally ready to crumble girly," he whispered. It was weird hearing him whisper. I could never imagine the Joker whispering, he was just too insane to. He whipped out a cell phone from a pocket, making me jump slightly –probably the only thing that wasn't a weapon in the pockets- and dialed a number.

"Come pick me up. Oh and get the blindfold ready," he said sharply then hung up, stuffing it back into a pocket. I narrowed my eyes, finally regaining my defiance. He winked back. I stood up, and he did too, mimicking my movements. I took a step back to get away from my chair, and he took a step forward. But it was a bigger stride than mine, so it closed the gap between us more.

I had a feeling this was bad. Just a tiny smidge of a feeling. Not. My gut was wrenching in my stomach, knowing something was forming behind his eyes. I kept stepping back until I finally found myself in a corner.

'Grrrreat'. I thought. I had left the knife on the table. I pictured Tony the Tiger dancing in front of me, laughing at my anxiety. But no, of course not, I had the Joker standing there instead. He bent over and threw me over his shoulder. Well sort of, more like forced me to bend over rigidly and poked a shoulder into my stomach until I gasped and folded over. I yelled, hoping someone, anyone, would come and give me a hand. I pounded on his back and tried to kick him, put he didn't seem to complain. No, in its place he actually moved faster and towards the front door. I never imagined him to be athletic, being a psycho and mostly likely in a fight would use a gun, knife or some type of an explosive.

"You better not fart," I growled.

He laughed.

"Too late!"

I groaned and covered my nose with a hand. With the other one I reached out for the railing to the stairs. Luckily, I got a good grasp and I could hear people running up the stairs from the basement. They were all bunkered in the basement.  
Unfortunately for me though, the Joker was able to yank hard enough to loosen my grip and if I hadn't have let go, I'm sure he would have ripped me arm off. Sort of like a Happy Tree Friends sort of deal - if you haven't seen them and have no clue what I'm talking about, then good for. I don't recommend it, but if you enjoy watching gory and bloody cartoons that look like something a preschooler would watch at the beginning of it, well it's the type of show you'd like very, very much. That's how sick and twisted it is.-

As the Joker ran out the door with me on the shoulder, a big van that looked like an ice cream truck pulled in the drive way. It was remarkable how quickly they had gotten here, almost like they were only down the road.

I still wasn't going to give up though. I reached for anything that I could reach out to and get a hold of. It was no use though. After you exited the front door, the only thing I could grab onto would have been the door knob. Other wise, there was nothing I could do. My dad and Uncle Chris were running around the corner yelling my name. I reached one hand out to him then looked over the Joker's shoulder. A couple of men got out of the truck with guns pointed towards the house. My mind knew what was going on as soon as I saw them. I twisted my head back towards the house, yelling on top of my lungs.

"Stop! They'll shoot!"

Both of them hesitated slightly, but still reached the door. I began to thrash about, and didn't realize the string of profane words leave my mouth. I heard the Joker's hyena laugh over top of it. I cursed at him too then looked back at my Dad. His eyes were watering, but he had ceased running. Uncle Chris was shutting the door, but I could see my Dad's silhouette though it after the door clicked shut. I yelled, "I love you!" As loud as I could, hoping I could be heard. Suddenly I was thrown into the van and my eyes were covered with a cloth. I squirmed and threw my fists. The men were laughing around me. Finally one of the men in the front ordered for someone to make me be quiet. That was a big mistake for that guy that wanted to win the person's favor in the front of the Joker for following orders. As he placed a hand over my mouth, I sank my teeth into his skin.

He bellowed as he flew backwards. I fell backwards I shook my head and loosened the cloth over my eyes with a couple shakes. I saw him raising his hand to hit me when a knife flew into his throat. He gurgled and collapsed in a heap on the floor. His eyes were wide and confused, and really freaky looking.

"Don't touch her," came a menacing voice to my left. I looked over and saw the Joker buttoning his jacket and scooted next to me. I squirmed to the right, but bumped into another guy who flinched away, afraid for his life. With his hands, the Joker lifted my head slightly onto his lap. I flinched and tried to get away, but he held my head firm there. I was only able to look up, and the only thing I could seem was him looking back down at me. I squirmed slightly, hoping I would get away.

But Lady Hope was not with me. The Joker only laughed and stroked my hair in a weird way. It wasn't like he was looking for a vital point to stab me, and it wasn't like he was toying with me either. He seemed to be more interested in petting me as if I was a pet cat. He looked slightly calm compared to the psychotic expression he normally did.

"So, Miss Taylor Walden, do you want anything?" he said. My jaw went slack slightly. How in hell did he know my name? Back at my house he terrorized all he called me was 'girly'.

"Yes I know your name. I've been growing tired of calling you girly and hiding the fact that this was all planned," he said. My eyes narrowed. I finally found the gull to retort.

"You did this on purpose? What the hell! Why?" I exclaimed. He laughed and tugged at my ponytail until it came out. He ran his fingers through my hair in that weird way that seemed unnecessary, but yet so oddly good.

"Why? I've been having people watch you Taylor. You're more like me than you think," he mused. The odd tone of voice was confusing again.

"Watching me? What the-"

"You've got moxy, and you're stubborn. You like explosions, you're easily amused by anything and you're cunning-"

"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU WATCHING ME?" I bellowed. I felt my spit coming back down and landing on my face. He wiped my face with the blindfold, but didn't answer my question. I groaned and glared around the rest of the van. It was bigger than it looked out side of it and seemed dark than usual. The clowns were all bunched up, acting like they weren't paying attention to what the Joker was doing.

"Do want a mask Taylor?" The Joker asked. I grimaced.

No I do not want a fucking mask. I want to get out of this shitty thing that you call a van. I wanted to say, but I knew I'd get myself in trouble.

"I know what you want Taylor,"

"Oh really? Tell me smart ass," I replied really snarky like. He laughed. He leaned down next to my ear.

"You want," he breathed, "freedom."

Once again, my mouth slid in awe. There was no way in heaven and Earth he guessed that. What was going on?

"You want to be free of your parent's divorce and the issues brought by it. You want to be free of the stress that comes with your excelling sisters. You want freedom," I whispered again. I began to stutter slightly.

"H-How could yo-you possibly give that to me? How did you guess?"

"I told you, I've been watching. A certain fellow from this town also gave me the information I needed too. He was more than eager to give you away,"

His fingers began to make circles against my skull, soothing and sensational. I thought of who would have given me away.  
New Richmond was where I had lived before my mom had moved me and my sisters twenty minutes away to Anderson, and I didn't make enemies while I was there. The only people that would still be pissed with me would be an ex-boyfriend. And the first one that came to mind was the one that I had most recently dumped in eight grade because of; well let's just say a moral disagreement. I didn't say the name, for there was no need to. The Joker wouldn't have asked for his name anyways.

"Such strange eyes," the Joker said, breaking the silence, "They're so expressive, yet I can't look to see if you will squeal or not."

"I don't. If you want to hear a squeal, look somewhere else," I retorted. He laughed, putting his hands over my mouth. I felt my eye brows automatically furrow in confusion as he leaned down and pressed his lips against his hands. If hands weren't there, his lips would have pressed against mine. Ew.

He straightened up and then pulled something out of one of the many pockets in his purple jacket. It was a small glass of a clear liquid.

"Time for a nap," he chimed as he swirled the liquid. I tightened my lips in protest. He chuckled and made the tisk tisk sound a teacher would do to a naughty first grader. With another hand he gestured for someone to come. Two men came over and forced my mouth open by prying their fingers into my mouth. I squirmed and gagged as the Joker poured to drops onto my tongue. The clowns quickly let go and I tried biting them. I cursed slightly, but my words suddenly began to slur slightly.

"Nighty night," the Joker said, cocking his head to the side as he continued to stroke my head.

'Bastard', was the last thing I remember thinking before I slept.


	2. Explanations and Deals

I woke up to a head ache and in a bundle of blankets. The dark room was empty besides some mattresses and a couple miscellaneous items like masks and articles of clothing. It was also slightly chilly. Okay, not slightly, it was definitely cold. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped the blanket around myself, hoping to trap my body heat. I knew that I was in the Joker's hide out, but exactly where, I had no clue. And where anyone else was that is. A number of questions popped into my head. Where was every one? How was I going to get out of here? Where would I go after I did? Where was the nearest town if there was one? Where was the thermostat?

I slowly stood myself up, careful to not make much noise. If there was anyone around here, it would make it harder to make the slip. Even harder if the Joker was about.

I made my way across the room, avoiding the mattresses encase they might squeak. And I didn't move the door to wide – but wide enough to fit through – and I squeezed through, finding myself in an even colder room. It wasn't as empty, but colder. There were tables set with junk and other things criminals would have and a huge black board with scribbles and plans on it. There was no one in sight, and I guessed that I would have time to play around with chalk.

Shuffling softly over I looked at the many plans scribbled on it. Get more explosives (with a little box with an 'x' in it), get more ammo (another box with a 'x'), get more clowns (ditto), get Taylor (just a slash, whatever that meant), and to get her costumes and mask (which was lacking any mark). There were doodles and stick figure sketched plans. I drew faces on the figures, wrote a commentary on each thing to do, and drew my own like picture in the corner. In the corner of the board I drew a girl with her tongue sticking out, bent forward and hands on her hips. I wrote 'Have fun with the explosions' above it and moved on to getting out the hide out.

I went for the most obvious door, the one with the neon exit sign over it. I pushed it. No luck. Locked. I turned around and headed to the other side of the room. I pushed it open and entered a small kitchen with a refrigerator, a stove, a closet (which I assumed was used as a pantry) and sink. I moved past each of them, but had a very hard time walking by the refrigerator. My stomach rumbled, and then it seemed like the frig was a rectangular prism of heaven.

Sneaking over, I opened it a little. And to my disappointment, it was empty. May be the clowns only ate out. Ew. I'd rather make my own food than eat something that was soaked in fat. I also didn't feel like I had to eat out either since I didn't need to eat more crappy food than I needed. McDonalds has never been a favorite and I know that Ronald McDonald hated me.

Behind me I heard a door open and close with bunch of men hoots and hollers. I froze and cursed. I needed to hide. I threw the blanket into the frig then looked for a place that was easy to hide in and get out just as quick. I sprinted for the closet and swung it open. The biggest space was at the bottom, about 4 feet high and 3 feet wide. I could fit. Nothing was in the pantry either, so I threw myself in there and closed the door. Luckily, I had made it in time.

I couldn't see anything, but I could hear everything going on. A door to my left slammed open and the clowns seemed to be having a good time. They must have gotten some goods. I heard coins clinking together in bags and some men making jokes. But I didn't hear the Joker at all, which was strange. I would have thought he would be noticeable with his laugh. I shrugged it off, maybe he was planning his next big attack on whatever they've been attacking.

As soon as I heard the door leading to the big room close, I slunk out of the pantry and ran to the door the men had just entered from. I didn't bother closing the door, it would buy me more time if I left it open, then I sprinted into a pitch black garage. As soon as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I knew it was a garage because the light from the open door showed me the van I had been captured in. But there were also three trucks and a semi. I didn't bother stopping and checking if there were keys in the ignition. One, I didn't want to be caught in a stolen car. And two, I needed all the time I could get to escape and get to the authorities.

I groped around the dark, looking for the exit. I felt the smooth concrete wall underneath my fingers, and it didn't make a difference whether it was cold or not. My hands themselves were ice. I groped around until I halted. My hands had reached a warm and cloth-like texture. A throaty laugh began to erupt from the person's throat. And from the psycho eruption, I knew I was in for it.

"You're going to have to do better than that Taylor," he chuckled and grabbed my left wrist. I thrashed about, trying to break free as he pulled me towards the door.

"Let go of me! This is outrageous! I want to get out of here!"

"Sorry girly, but I don't let birds out of the cages unless I know they'll come back,"

"Well I am not a bird!" I exclaimed, aiming a fist towards his left shoulder blade. He pulled me forward and I flew onward, but didn't fall to the floor. He was holding me, just inches from the ground. My shoulder ached, but I was glad I didn't get banged on to the floor. Worst case scenario would splitting my head open and bye-bye Taylor!

"You want and need me more than you think," he said and nodded to his hand that was still latched onto my hand that that was latched onto his wrist, and in return he was holding me up at a forty-five degree angle to the ground. He grinned. My hand was wrapped firmly, desperately around his wrist.

"Either you want to fall, or you want me to pull you up," he said, "but whatever your choice is, I'm still going to pull you up."

And he jerked me into him and my head hit his chest with a thud. His arms were wrapped around me and were sort of ridged. Either it was because of his suit, or because he didn't give out many hugs. My arms were in between his chest and me because the jerk forward caused me to react with my hands forward ready to catch myself.

"You're too cold," he said, rubbing my cheek with a finger. I didn't flinch away, but I kept wary of his other movements. There were many ways to interpret what he meant by saying that. I was freezing to the core, and I also was fixing him with an icy glare.

He released me and led me to the door. I didn't resist for one hand was firmly on my shoulder. The Joker had to be in a really good mood today, or night. What ever. It dawned on me that I didn't know anything. We entered the kitchen and a lean muscular guy burst in.

"Sir! Did she escape? She was gone! Where was she?" he panted. Obviously he had been running and some what in fear of something. He had to have been the one asked to check up on me when they got back. If I had escaped, I assumed this guy would be dead in no time.

"No," the Joker said smoothly and patted me back roughly, causing me to stumble forward.

"Show her where her sleeping area is and if she has any questions, answer them. If she gives you trouble, call me," he said, and I looked over to see his permanent smile squished together wretchedly. The man had a more noticeable reaction to the Joker's smile. He grabbed my arm, pulling me to the door. I shrugged out of his hands and glared at him with narrowed eyes. I opened the door for myself and didn't wait for the guy to follow. Behind me I could hear the psychotic laughter erupt from the Joker and the other guy grumbling and cursing. He had an Irish background, and the curses proved it.

The guy following me walked quickly and nimbly, like a ninja. And as we walked through the big room, I saw the other guys just lounging about and sorting through the bags of money. Also a guy even was looking at the board, nudging another guy and sharing jokes with each other. I felt my stomach drop. I hadn't escaped and the Joker was going to see all my comments.

_Crap-e-o-la. _I thought and tried to dash to the board, but a swift arm caught around my waist.

"Oh no you don't!" he said and pulled me off my feet. The other men in the room suddenly turned to look at us and began laughing. I struggled, but the guys grip was steel.

"Let go of me, I need to erase that!" I yelled.

"Nope, no can do. If I don't do what I was told to do, I'm more likely to be killed than you,"

"Yeah right. You're a worker of his. He'd kill me if he sees that a hostage did something to his checklist (can't say plans, the Joker doesn't make plans, he just does) while he was gone,"

"Not really, you're more of a pet or special figure than a hostage," he said. And continued to drag me to wherever we were going. I looked up at him to see if his face portrayed anything I would need to know.

"What do you mean?" I asked, but continued to try to pull away. His face was like a mask, he had a really good poker face. If he was caught, he'd be able to not give away anything to the police. But he just shrugged.

"I'd ask the Joker, I'm just the right hand man," he replied. Every head turned to look at him, and I even saw some eyes narrow. I guess they didn't like that he was the "right hand man".

"Let me down, I can walk thank you very much," I said. He let go abruptly and I landed on my butt on the floor. I stood myself up and crossed my arms. He led the way down a hall that I hadn't noticed earlier when I was trying to escape. I grunted and followed, barely capable of keeping up, but now he was walking more nonchalantly.

The hall was as dark as the room that I had woken up in. But there was nothing in the hallway that I could have hurt myself over, even the broken glass on the ground. Kidding. I'm not invulnerable to harm.

The glass crunched under my shoes. Looking up at the ceiling I could see bullet holes in the ceiling and the pieces of glass that remained looked like they were clinging on for dear life. Someone had gone off on a rampage, or was looking for something to do. Either way, the fact that someone did that was quite disturbing. My room was beyond this mess, and cleaning it up would take time and caution. I made a mental note that I needed shoes on my feet at all times.

The Irish (I decided to call him that for now on, even if I'd ever learn his name) made a turn into a room to the right. It was the only door that didn't have bullet holes in so far. Coincidence or not, it was "my room". _My room _back home wasn't a part of a warehouse –if that's what this building was – and wasn't anywhere near the Joker. Plus it had heating. But what "my room" would look like in this new place with the Joker, surprised me. A lot.

It had emerald green carpet and the walls were black and decorated with pictures that I had taken for my Photography class. A little weird and made me wonder how he got them, but they were arranged that made me awestruck. The self portraits of me dressed up as a hobo were the most numerous, my eyes in those pictures stared back at me.

"He had this made for you. He even paid for the construction crew to do this. But not the artist. The artist wanted more then he what the brochure said. If only he'd pay us like he said he would," the man said. He sat down in a small chair that groaned under his weight. I seriously thought it was going to break, but I guess it was strong enough.

"Why does he want me? Why did he do all of this for me?" I asked. I dragged a hand over the black sheets. They weren't silk, but they weren't stiff either. They were comfy enough. The guy smirked.

"So you _are_ curious?" he said, smirking.

"What's wrong with that? I'm being held against my will somewhere that is most likely far away from where I was taken, shouldn't I want to find out as much as I can right?"

"Good thinking. I am sure you want to stay alive too,"

"Correct,"

"And escape,"

I held my tongue. I didn't want to let the ideas come out of my brain, but this guy was onto me and sharper than I suspected of him. Mental note, be wary of the Irish. There was more to him than what he let on. But I wasn't going to let him know I was intimidated or whatever this guy was looking for.

"So, are you going to explain to me what is going on or not?" I asked, crossing my arms against my chest. He chuckled.

"Well, well, well. You have as much spunk as the Joker says. I guess I got to tell you now," he leaned forward, making the chair groan even more.

"My name is Dane. I'm the second in command and I am in charge of you. The Joker wants you to join us. But since you are defenseless-"

"Excuse me? I am not!"

"Yes you are. These clowns are intimidated easily and don't take kindly to new comers. If any of them were to try anything, even though the Joker has warned them, you wouldn't stand a chance."

"Ya I would!"

"Well anyways, whatever you say. I'm to train you 'till you can hold out on your own. Then you start participating fully as one of us." He said triumphantly, spreading his arms out wide as if he was going "TA DA!" I rolled my eyes.

"What kind of training? Getaway car? Sorry, but I already know how to drive fast," I retorted, sitting onto the bed. He laughed.

"You'll start out that way. But you'll be respected when I'm through with you. You're going to be our little secret weapon, well that's what the Joker says. He's has something in mind for you, I'm not quite sure what, but everybody knows not to bug the Joker over wanting to know the plan," he said. He had an evil gleam in his eye, almost unnerving, but all the same I sat still. What did the Joker have in store for me? It doesn't sound appealing.

"And you're probably wondering what the catch is,"

"If there is one. Or are you suggesting that you were expecting a deal?"

"Correct,"

"Let me think, will I be allowed to do whatever I want as long as I behave?" I asked. I needed to narrow my options.

Dane nodded, rubbing his hairless chin as if he actually had man hair on it.

"Will I be paid in some way or form?"

"Sort of, the Joker doesn't pay regularly, but he does pay,"

"Will I be able to be in charge of that kitchen, I hate take out,"

He laughed, "Sure, whatever pleases you. I've been getting tired of fast food too. But mind you, you'll have to cook for everyone if you're going to cook at all. And it'll come from your pay check,"

I shrugged. If I was going to make good food, that's all I cared about.

"Can you give me some time to think and decide what I'm going to do?" I asked. He nodded and got up, taking to strides out the door.

"Just give a yell when you're ready,"

I sprawled out on my bed, debating what I should do. See if I could just avoid being the 'secret weapon' or was there something else I wanted more? Would I be given freedom if I asked for it? Highly doubt.

My mind began to wander to other matters. Like what was happening back home? What was happening with them? Did they send out a search team for me, or was my face plastered on the news? Did my friends know I was gone?

Abbey would never believe that I (the crazy and kooky dreamer that was more like a sister than I friend) was kidnapped by _THE _Joker_._ I mean what are the odds. And we always found him amusing, but never dreamed him this close to where we lived. She and I would even make up our own stories on what we would do when around the Joker.

Abbey, like I said, was more like a sister than a friend. Before I could drive, I'd walk to her house if I stayed after school. Even after I started driving, I spent my days there. There really was no point in going home if my second home was in walking distance. I only drove when taking Regan to gymnastics, to my20Dad's on certain days, and any miscellaneous trips like groceries and hanging with friends. Plus Abbey and I were partners in crime. We raised a ruckus together, goofed off to no end and never cared what others thought about our actions. In our homeroom class we got along great with Mr. Eisenhard (who should be awarded the Homeroom Teacher of the Year Award for putting up with me and Abbey), who often made fun of my craziness. But I didn't care, I just kept goofing off, and so did Abbey. Sometimes we'd goof off to an extent that Mr. Eisenhard truly believed we were crazy. Or that I was. Ha. I could be, and if not (due to the recent circumstances) I could be in the future.

Abbey's house was my second home. Her family was my second family. They welcomed me whenever I showed up on their doorstep, and fed me. That was the best part. Her Dad was a great chef. Wait, not just great, but amazing! Hold on, even better. AMAZING! I definitely wasn't a picky eater, and anything he made was better than anything I could conjure up. My plan for the future was to go to college and major in cuisine. Well that dream was going to have to wait. (I still planned to escape)

I called her mom 'Mom' (and my mom I called Mum just out of habit from hearing my Dad's New Zealand accent for so long) and her Dad was Father to me. Her little brother Adam was adorable. He was nine years old and had a six pack. He was autistic, but great all the same. He was naturally tense (which helped build the muscles for his six pack) but cuddly all the same. And innocent.

Thinking of my second family made me sit up suddenly. Not the greatest idea. My head swam, not from confusion. I was fine when it came to thinking straight. I had families to protect. Mine and the ones that was close to me (meaning my friend's families too).

I searched around the room for something to write on and something to write with, but with little luck. Guess the one thing the Joker didn't know about me was my need for a paper and pencil to satisfy my boredom. I guess I was going to have to do this from the top of my head.

I went to the door and opened it slightly, peeking out into the dim hallway. I could see a silhouette leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette. Great. He was going to have smoke breath throughout training. If we could agree.

"Hey," I yelled, "Get back here!"

He looked at me and stood up. Ugh, the cig was still in his mouth.

"And get rid of that stupid piece of crap in your mouth!" I yelled, and then slammed the door. I shuffled over to the bed and sat down, tapping my foot impatiently. He was taking his time, so I decided I was going to take my time telling him what I wanted. Just enough to annoy him, but not enough for him to call the Joker. That would be bad.

The Irish knocked the door, but didn't bother waiting for my permission. He had gotten rid of his cig, but was still blowing fumes from his mouth. Egh. Whatever. Ashtray breath was always the worst breath.

"So what is your request?" he asked, sitting himself in the small chair again.

"My request, hmmm…" I said, putting a finger on my chin. I was laughing inside of my head.

"You said you would call for me when you were decided,"

"Yes I did,"

"So? Go on,"

"On with what?

"Just. Tell me." He said through clenched teeth. He was easily angered. Mental Note: easily angered people are easily beaten. He'll make the same mistake if I push him enough.

"Alright," I sighed, "I want the Joker to leave my family and friends alone. I'll need a sheet of paper so I can write down every name. If one is harmed on his account, then I'm through and HAVE to be released."

He sat back, pondering. He began to rub his chin again. Idiot.

"I think that'll do, but let's see what the boss has to say first. Have any other questions before I go?" he asked.

'Um, well is there any body I should be wary of. Just wondering who I have to be wary of," I said, trying to sound unperturbed. As my ninth grade teacher said, "Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer." Not like I wanted to eliminate them, but just to keep my back covered.

"Rat. Anything else?" he said bored.

"Ya. What exactly is this training?"

"Well, if I was going to put in simple terms for a kid, since you are one-"

"Am not!"

"I'd say ninja type training. I used to be apart of this league called the League of Shadows before the Batman killed the head honcho, so now you're going to get that. And there will be no complaining. Not. One. Bit" he said, staring me straight in the eyes. I nodded slowly, unable to break the eye contact with this dude. He had weird eyes. One blue eye, and one green eye. He was going to be easily recognizable if I was ever going to be in the need to search for him in a crowd.

He stood up and strode out of the room quickly. And when I looked at him, he looked like he could be a ninja. He had a quick stride and the posture like he was ready to strike.

As he disappear around the corner I thought he'd want to know how many people I planned to protect, or give me a limit to how many people I was going to save. I guess the Joker was going to deal with that.

I stuck my hands into my pocket and my left hand struck something I wasn't expecting to find in them. I ripped my hand out, with my hand grasped around my I-pod good thing, I can't live without my tunes and my cell phone. I tossed my I-pod onto the bed and without thinking, I typed in a number. I had to do this quick. Who knew how much time I had till they were going to come back.

At the time, the number didn't matter at all to me, I just wanted to make contact with the outside world. And quickly. I put it up to my ear, trying my best to keep my cool. One ring, two rings, then someone picked up.

"Taylor?" came the voice. I sighed. And looked at my phone, I had called Abbey.

"Abbey! Thank god,"

"Thank god? I should be the one saying that! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are you?" she said, sounding out of breath. She was getting worked up, good ole' Abbey, being my worrisome sister.

"Yeah, I am fine. Listen, I need you to do something for me,"

"Sure, anything," she said, "Will you be coming home? Will you be alright?"

I was about to answer when I heard some yelling through the walls. I needed to do this quick or call her later. If there was going to be a later.

"Abbey, tell everyone everything is going to be fine. I'm doing-" a knock came to the door.

"I'll call you later," I whispered, then hung up, even though I could still hear her yelling into the phone, I shoved the phone into my pocket. Hopefully it was still on silent mode like I usually set it as.

The door swung up and the Joker and the Irish strode, along with some little twerpy dude that looked like Wormtongue from the Lord of the Ring books and movies, except he was skinnier. He must have been the guy the Irish called Rat. Big surprise. The Rat was carrying a couple pieces of paper and a pen. It was a good sign. It meant that they were going to take my deal. And I was safe. May be not from him though. The Irish said I was going to have to be wary of him.

"So we ready to make a deal? Hmmm?" the Joker said as he grabbed my wrist. I twisted my hand to where I could get a firm grip on his in return. He smiled, but I didn't.

"I want more explained to me." I said. "_Now."_

He looked at me confused, like I said something that surprised him.

"Did Dane not do what I asked?" he said, his eyes darting to Dane, who shifted uncomfortably. Don't blame him, the Joker looked horrible.

"Yes, he did what he was supposed to. He answered the questions, but I have a feeling there is more than what was being told to me. Some things only you can explain," I said, tugging at his sleeve to regain his attention. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Dane breathing again. But then I had to focus on the Joker again when he waved Dane and Rat out. Dane looked more than happy to leave, and Rat, well, he looked like a peeved rat.

The Joker sat me down, at little awkwardly by just pushing down on my shoulders till my butt hit the bed. Then he just stood there, licked his lips and looked slightly amused that I didn't try to fight back. I knew better. I wouldn't have won. I wasn't giving up, but just being cautious.

"So you want to know what's going on eh? I'll tell you." He said, and grabbed one of the pictures off the wall. He waved it in my face. I brushed it away, annoyed. It was the one of me being a hard core hobo. I had this weird look in my eyes, and my hands out in front of my face.

"This girl, these eyes on her face, shows something wanting out. Its chaos behind them! And it's just waiting for its time to get out!" he ranted, still waving the picture in my face. "_The_ _Fox_ wants out."

My jaw almost dropped. The Fox was a villain I created a couple weeks ago. She was devious, insane, and strong and well, the ideal super villain. How on Earth did he figure it out? I had only talked about her a couple times. Secretly I wished I could be like her, since she was almost everything I was not.

He got up and leaned towards me, his face next to mine, and his mouth next to my ear. He licked his lips, which I found weird since he was so close, and his ragged breathing was tickling my ear.

"She's capable of wreaking havoc. Isn't that what you wanted? Freedom to do what you want," he whispered into my ear and laid a hand on one of mine (not really sure if it was intentional or not). "And someone to understand you when you are free."

He placed the other hand on my knee and patted it. I shivered slightly from being uncomfortable, making him seemingly more pleased than before. He chuckled as he moved backwards to look at me.

"Well hello beautiful." His trademark line. And while he was saying it, he was looking straight into my eyes. His eyes were so dark and deep. And insanity was swimming in them. Where it came from, that must have been lost to his memory a long time ago. But something else was in there. Desire.

"W-w-w-hat makes you th-think I'm capable of that?" I was having a hard time talking. He was just so close. Unnaturally close. And it was getting to me.

"Did my spunky girly disappear?" he said, gripping my face, making my cheeks squish against the lower eyelids. I probably would have looked really strange right then. That's probably why he started to laugh. But hey, who knows? It's the Joker, he may not even know why he laughs.

"You can become my Fox. I want Fox. You can be mine," he said, his scars squishing together in a demonic smile. His face was not two centimeters away, his hot breath flooding over my face in waves.

"And, ahem (that's the throat clearing sound thank you very much), if I can't become the Fox?" I asked, ready for a scary response. My eyes squinted shut, hoping to not see anything I didn't want to see and froze up if I was going to be brutalized.

But it never came. No violent strikes came upon me, and there was no shouting coming from the Joker. He was still just holding my face. I opened my eyes to find his smile even bigger, his eyes filled with confidence.

"You will," he said, then let go of my face. He stood up and turned his back to me, but he turned back towards on his heels, and then leaned down, just as close to my face as before. Stiffly, he pressed his lips against mine, and then pulled away. He licked his lips awkwardly, then turned away and shrugged. He knocked on the door once and then sat down in the chair. Dane and Rat entered, but I barely noticed.

_Oh shit, oh shit, oh holy fucking shit! _Kept running through my mind. Shock is always an annoying state of mind to be in. Unfortunately for me, I was knee deep in it. I could see and hear the men, but I couldn't respond. My mouth was not functioning. Maybe the Joker had cursed, or paralyzed it. I looked like a fool, just sitting there.

And the Joker was laughing the whole time. He understood why I was in such a confused state, and the Irish and the Rat were just looking at me with confusion too.

When I finally got out of shock, we continued with negotiations.

"So we're to avoid these couple people at all costs, and if we don't, you free to go? Sounds simple," the Irish said (like I said, I called him Irish from then on) and shrugged.

It didn't look like the Joker was too happy about the second part of my proposition. But my head was back on straight, so I was ready for debating.

"Depends on what you call a couple," I said, "And so far, I got at least fifty people on my mind."

"Fifty?" the Rat exclaimed. I shrugged.

"No one ever gave me a limit, so I went ahead a came up with a rough number so far. There may be more," acting nonchalant. "And they're pretty wide spread. It's not like they _all _live in the Cincinnati area."

The Rat guy gave me a creepy glare. And from the looks of it, we weren't going to get along. Frankly, I didn't care. I had protection, even if I didn't want it.

"So is it a deal?" the Irish asked, looking to me, then the Joker. The Joker eyes' were focused on my face, and his eyes deep in thought. Well, if that what you call thought, not speaking and staring at someone.

"Sure," he said, the word was stretched out.

"Great," I said, slightly enthusiastic, but not showing it too much.

"But," the Joker interrupted, "If you escape without me letting you go, we can do what we want with whomever. And get you back. No, no, more like _take _you back."

I gulped, and all escape plans went down with my saliva. I wanted everyone to be safe, even if it meant giving myself up. I got up, took the papers and pen from the Irish's hands. I sat back down on the bed.

My heart was beating in my ears. Now I knew what it was like selling yourself to the devil. But I was doing this for them. For my family.

"Deal," I murmured, then began to write down names, starting with my mom and sisters.

"Good, girly," the Joker purred. Next thing I knew, he was on the bed too, behind me with a hand on my shoulder. I flinched slightly, but continued to write and didn't look at him.

"You're mine, Fox," he whispered into my ear. He had just bought my freedom.


	3. Never Sell yourself to the Devil

It didn't take long to have every person's name that I needed on that paper. Yes. I needed them on that paper. I felt guilt beyond compare for having just sold my freedom (even though the Joker said he was giving me freedom) to protect them. It wasn't protecting them that made me feel guilty, but it was the whole idea that I was going to be turning evil. Or well, maybe.

I never could be evil! I'm not the type! My friends looked up to me and needed advice from me from time to time. I may be tough and rough sometimes, the total tomboy that I grew up as, but I knew what was in my heart. I wasn't capable of killing anyone out of cold blood either!

But the Fox was. That's what the Joker was after. He wanted someone that wasn't me, but thought was inside of me. Sort of like the X-men deal with Jean and the Phoenix. Except the Fox didn't exist! She was a figment of my imagination. If she was real, well that would explain so many things.

After I was done, I looked over like Santa would look over the Naughty and Nice list. I felt bed for the people's names apart of my extended family. I just had to make sure that the ones I needed to protect. My immediate family, Mum, Dad, Paige and Regan, and then my second family (Abbey's family) were the top of the priorities. My friends from Turpin, New Richmond and church were next, and then extended family (if I could remember their names, they made it on the list. Sorry to all the second cousins and all the la-de-das…. And so on and so forth). The range in which all these people lived was quiet large. Starting in Ohio to North Dakota and Minnesota, from California to New Zealand (big jump, but its true,) from England to Scotland and Ireland and finally Norway. And if there were any family members that were already dead on the list, well then I'll just have to protect their graves.

The Irish and the Rat had left while I was still writing. Rat was going to rewrite the board, exactly how it was before I screwed up. And the Joker had him write something down as an new edition to the board, which he wrote down on a little torn piece of paper. I couldn't see what it was, but I didn't really care. Anyways, the Joker's hand writing reminded me of Abbey's except worse. While Rat was leaving I could hear a stream of curses with my name intermixed coming from his mouth. That Rat did not like me at all. I wouldn't be surprised if he was one of the men wanting to kill me.

The Irish was to get the guys caught up on what has been going on and who was going to take me to get groceries. The Joker already knew I didn't like take out. What a creeper. From what I heard no one wanted to go, so later the Joker made a generous one hundred dollar contribution to the first three men that wanted to go.

The Joker stayed in the room with me, just watching me with a grin and his hands on his knees while sitting in the chair. He looked really posed, like he wanted me to take a picture of him, print it, and then put it on my wall next to my pictures. I wasn't going to suggest that though. He probably would have taken it too seriously.

"So… what next?" I asked while he was putting the list in a jacket pocket. He smirked, but didn't answer. Instead he just walked out of the room, and I followed. With the grass crunching underneath our feet, we made our way back to the main room. I didn't say anything else, but the Joker was humming something to himself, and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I didn't move away, just stayed next to him. I didn't want to upset him, though he probably understood we weren't on friendly terms. I was going to keep my face away from his from now on.

When we entered the main room, the clowns were crowded around the board. I counted about fifteen heads, may be there were shorter guys that weren't in my line of view. So there could have been twenty men, all probably wanting to be rid of me. And Rat was at the front writing a list with a heading of _HATFIELD_. I sighed. This probably wasn't setting well with the guys, because it was a lengthy list. Making friends, everywhere I go.

The Joker cleared his throat, making every clown look to us, and making me jump slightly. The expressions weren't the happiest I've seen all day, and many eyes narrowed at the Joker's arm on my shoulders. How could I tell? Because they weren't making eye contact, and the room became very tense.

I began to clench and unclench my fists, and my eyes flicked over every face that seemed to be a threat. I felt ready to fight. From my knowledge, never be the first to take a swing at a person. The opponent has more time to ready themselves for attack. If it comes to just standing there and staring at each other, then the two aggressors shouldn't need to fight. So I was waiting for someone to attack. And ready to retaliate. Plus they had a weakness that I lacked. They were men – if you catch my drift – and my knee or my kick could cripple a bunch. All is fair when it came to fighting, unless you're the one losing of course.

But no one attacked. I was slightly relieved, but I still kept my guard up. I hated surprises. I looked over to the Joker, who had an unhappy expression on his face and very threatening. He had his other hand in a pocket that was inside of his jacket.

"Would any of you like to harm this girly? Hmm?" he asked. His was voice thick with a dangerous tone. It even made me shiver.

"Why should she even be here? She's useless!" yelled a foolish guy in the mob. An aisle parted and the guy was standing there, looking at me with envy. The poor fool, he was in trouble from the way I could feel the Joker's fingers grip my shoulder tightly. I didn't want to witness a killing. So I stupidly said, "Because."

Every pair of eyes were focused on me, even the Joker wasn't paying attention to the fool.

"Um. Because the Joker said so. Right?" I said, nodding to the Joker. He looked at me confused, but said nothing. He looked at the guy, then back to me.

"Right girly," he replied. Then he pulled something out of the pocket. And the next thing I knew was that the guy was falling face down to the floor with a knife in his gut. So much for trying to prevent death.

"Any one else have a question? Hmmm? Any at all?"

The room stayed silent while blood started to spread. The Irish appeared and had some of the clowns clean up the mess. I sighed. I was disgusted by the blood. I didn't have that phobia of blood, just didn't like seeing people's blood spilled for nothing. Killing in cold blood.

The rest of the clowns cleared way of the board as the Joker led me to board. I took careful steps around the pool of blood. Ew. Even the smell was wretched. Underneath the Hatfield heading was the following :

make her costumes

make her mask

get her training started

see if there is anything else she needs (or anything we have to do get the above completed)

I had a feeling these were edited. I didn't think the Joker was capable of such understandable notes. I looked around at all the clowns, who acted to be happy, but were doing a pretty crappy job at it. I guess because of me, that guy was killed, and some seemed pretty pee-oed about it. Then I realized, how alone I was.

Literally, I was surrounded, but I felt alone surrounded by guys. I looked to number four on the list. There was one thing I needed. I needed a friend by my side.

"There is one thing I need. A friend," I said with out taking my eyes off the board.

"You do. Me," the Joker said, "I'm the only friend you need here."

"Preferably a girl, one of my friends from home,"

"No,"

"I need her. Otherwise I won't do to well. I'll be too bored to try,"

"Which one?" he asked, sounding peeved. I heard him bring the paper out from his pocket.

"Abbey Schreiber. After school on Monday's she goes straight home. Plus she walks home, so it'll be easy to pick her up. Don't go to her house, scare her little brother then you will have to deal with me _and _Abbey. I don't want to go unless we get my mask and new clothes first. She can make my 'costumes' (I did do the finger thing. I really wasn't too thrilled with the idea of a clown suit or some ridiculous spandex thing) I can warn her ahead of time too, so she can be somewhat prepared and get some things I need her to bring for me."

I looked at him with a needy expression. I wanted to look like I really wanted her. No, not wanted, _needed. _ Abbey would be a guiding voice and keep me entertained. She's got a good heart so she wouldn't take part in criminal activities, and good at making clothes. I knew her parents had gotten her a new sewing machine the past Christmas for her Fashion and Design class (even though we both cared less for Paris fashions), so she could make my costume and save me trouble of looking like a hobo that made her clothes.

"Fine. Today we'll get some spare clothes and the stuff you need for food," he said. "Though I wonder how you are going to warn her."

"Thanks," I replied and gave him an awkward pat on his shoulder. It was awkward because I didn't want to lead the guy on. He already kissed me today and I really didn't want that in the future. But I felt bad too. I didn't know why, but I did. I looked down at the floor like a child that knew that

"Is it because of the scars?" He asked, grabbing my wrist. I squirmed, trying to get away.

"Look at me!" he growled. It was frightening. Enough to make me stop and slowly look at him. He was fuming. His eyes were horridly dark and narrowed.

"No, I just don't-" I said, but was unable to continue. I was lost for words. He stared at me, waiting for an answer. Which made it worse, and I only began to stammer slightly and of course, the dreaded heat in my cheeks. I was flustered. He dragged me towards a door and pulled me in. It was the room I woke up in, and it was as gloomy and empty as it was before. And as dark, I really couldn't see anything besides the figure pulling me close to it.

The Joker's arms snaked around me, and weren't as rigid as they were when he tried hugging me in the garage. I didn't know what to do. I just let my arms hang. My cheek was pressed against his neck tie. A little uncomfortable, so I bent my head slightly so it was pressing against my temple.

It wasn't an awkward moment anymore, but it definitely wasn't something I was wanting. It was a misunderstanding. But for some reason I knew it would be no use. I would not be able to push him away. I was bound to him by all the people I had to protect.

He took one hand of his hands and placed it on the back of my neck. I looked up at him, knowing what he was looking for. I held my breath and closed my eyes. No point in fighting. The Joker pressed his lips on mine, for the second time today. But this time it wasn't like he was toying with me.

Without thinking, my right hand went up to his shoulder and his other arm went lower to the arc in my back. And it no further than that. He just stayed with his lips pressed against mine, but moved the hand on my neck to hold my face. Those definitely weren't comfortable there. They were dry and slightly rough, crying out for moisturizer. But I wondered how they felt against my cheek to him. What was he thinking? Was this a test?

He finally pulled back, and I opened my eyes to look at him. He was satisfied. Maybe he was tired of being enclosed by idiot men. Or was it something else?

"There you go girly. The answer to my question," he said.

"How? That answers nothing," I said, slightly confused.

"You need _and _want me," he said slyly, then released me. I dropped my hand from his shoulder and harrumphed. He laughed. He must have thought I was not going to admit it. I wasn't going to need to, since there was nothing to admit.

We exited and automatically every clown was looking at us like they knew what just took place. I crossed my arms and followed the Joker to the kitchen. I knew there was nothing to find in there, so we were going to have to make a list. And I was going to need a cook book when we went out. If I was going to make anything, I was going to have to have recipes. I could do stuff from the top of my head. May be Abbey would act like she was going to borrow my favorite cook book from my mum, then "accidently" have it with her when she is kidnapped. Good. But I was going to have to dial *67 when I call her to make sure I wasn't tracked. If we were caught, things would go down hill. One I would be in trouble for helping with trying to kidnap Abbey, then taken home. Then someone on the list would die (the Joker most likely wouldn't get caught) and maybe be recaptured. I was thinking ahead.

I leaned against the bench and brought out my cell phone from my pocket. The Joker didn't say anything, but from the look on his face he didn't look very happy. And a little concerned.

"I'm not that dumb. I wouldn't call the police even if I knew where I was," I said, adding a little attitude to it. Even though I was being snarky, he relaxed. The I dialed *67 then Abbey's number, and it was not long till she picked up.

"Hello, Abbey Schreiber," she greeted. She was so polite, even when she had no idea who she was talking to.

"Hey, it's me," I said, "I have some news for you. Is anyone listening in on us?"

There was a pause, "No,"

"Truthfully, 'cuz I'll hang up if some one is,"

There was an exchange of words on the other end and some arguing in the back round, finished off with a slam of the door.

"I told Mom I had a call from a friend that needed to talk to me without listening in on our conversation,"

"You still don't know how to lie now do you?"

"I can, but not very good at coming up with them,"

"Well it worked, so here is the thing. I made a deal with the Joker and have a whole list of names of people that aren't allowed to be touched by him and the clowns here,"

"Okay, I'm on there right? And my family?"

"The first family that isn't related to me to me," I said. She sighed, "What else?"

"I'm not allowed to escape or else the people on the list will get hurt and I'll be taken back. It's complicated why I'm even here in the first place. Frankly, I don't think I want to know anymore than what has been told to me," I said and I looked at the Joker. He was staring at my intensely, and I smiled goofily back. Awkward once again.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, sounding like she was about to choke on tears.

"Two reasons. One, you're my best friend Abbey. I know you'd understand not to worry about me. Two, I'm allowed to um… have a friend brought here. To stay. With me," hoping she'd take it well.

"Are you sure? I mean, what about Adam? What about my family? I mean this is a chance in a life in life time, but I don't know if I can do it," she said, her voice quickening in panic.

"Abbey, shh. Abbey, stay with me here. I'm just warning you. You don't have to do it," I replied as calm as I could. There wasn't a response on the other end, just some shuffling around and sniffling.

"Hatfield, I think I'll do it. You need me. What kind a friend would I be to leave you all alone,"

"One that cares about her family's safety and well being," I mused.

"True, but they're safe because of you too,"

"Can't deny that, but still," I said.

"So where do I go? Do I need to bring anything?"

"One thing, we're getting you and making getting you look like a kidnap. They won't be getting you at your house either, just to avoid harming your family. Write all of this down and keep that hidden. No one must know,"

"Okay,"

"Secondly, ask to "borrow my mom's Betty Crocker Cook book. The paper back. Say you want to make my favorite recipe for dinner. Then ask for my back pack. In there, get the green note book. It has the costume ideas I drew a couple weeks ago. Bring it along with your sewing machine. Oh and pack clothes. Even if you need more bags or a suitcase. Personally, I wouldn't bring too much so it doesn't look like you were planning this,"

"How am I going to carry this around?" she asked, really confused.

"I guess put it in a bag and hide it on the way to school. Text me where you hide it on that Monday and we'll pick it up before we get you."

"When will that be?"

"After school on Monday,"

"So I have less than three days to get ready. That should be easy,"

"Less than a three days? How long have I been gone?" I asked. This time I was confused. It was a Friday when I was taken, how long had I been out?

"You've been gone for a week now. Why? Didn't you know?"

"No," I said through gritted teeth. I looked at the Joker, who seemed to be pleased with himself.

"Oh. Is the Joker there? You seem like you're mad at the person in the room. Is he?" she asked.

"Yes," I sighed.

"Is he as cool yet creepy as we thought?"

"You have no idea,"

"Ha. Will we be able to annoy him like we planned?"

"No, he's a bit touchy," I said, smirking at him. He became aware that we were talking about him. In one movement he stepped forward and took the phone from my hand.

"Hey!" I yelled and he said into the phone, "Good bye girly." Then hung up. Gah, he was touchy. I took back my phone and stuck my tongue out at him.

"What was that clear stuff that made me sleep for almost a week?" I asked, really peeved. He shrugged. I was speechless. I could have died.

"The doctor we bought it from said it would keep a person knocked out that long and kept alive. We didn't want to keep giving you drugs and have you cause us trouble girly."

_I'm not the one that causes the trouble you idiot._

I opened the frig door and took out the blanket I had thrown in there earlier. I wrapped it around me and begun forming a grocery list in my mind. We were going to need a lot of stuff. Along with pots, pans, wash clothes and dish soap. A lot of stuff. Plus we were going to need canned stuff. There wasn't going to be a need for fresh food if we had almost twenty guys here. But I decided to ask how many there were anyways.

"How many men are there?"

"I don't know," he replied.

_What a great help you are._ I thought then just guessed. I was going to get enough stuff for everyone, whether they appreciated it or not. I moved onto the sink. The water still worked which was good, but it wasn't the cleanest stuff to have. We were going to need a filter and but drinks. These guys would either want pop or beer, and I wasn't going to buy beer. No fricken way.

When I was finished inspecting and making a mental grocery list, the Joker led me to the Irish and gave him and the three men who volunteered to go the money he promised. Surprisingly, it wasn't fake either. The Joker was loaded. From there he gave me six hundred dollars to get everything. Clothes and supplies. The mask was going to be ready for me to paint tomorrow. One of the men used to make masks and he customized the masks they wore. I couldn't wait to paint it.

We went to the garage and took a smaller car than the one that I was kidnapped in. The Irish was driving, a big buff black dude was sitting in the passenger seat. The other two guys were in the back seat with me, and I absolutely was NOT sitting in between them. They were huge too, and really mean looking. They probably cared less about me, so they weren't really a threat. I was taking the window seat no matter what.

Before I climbed in after the two guys, the Joker took my wrist and hugged me and said, "Come back to me Fox."

I sighed, let him release me and before I closed the door, I nodded and said, "Sure. I really don't have a choice."

For some unknown reason, I actually wanted to come back, even though I didn't want to show it. Why?


	4. Welcome to Gotham

The car ride was very quiet, besides me going over what we needed and the stores I shopped at. Pots, pans, toothbrush and toothpaste, bathroom requirements (womanly too) food and ice. The ice machine needed to be fixed, so I was going to need something to keep the frozen goods preserved. The guy in the passenger seat was writing everything down as I rambled on. The Irish estimated that it would take about four hundred and fifty dollars to five hundred dollars to accomplish this list, leaving a little money for some extra things I could get for myself. I was hoping for some necessities like a dock for my I-pod and some books. Then I was going to need some paints, art supplies, along with writing utensils.

The warehouse was by the docks of this city, which ever city that was. I was going to find out. It took only three minutes to hit traffic of the main roads. There were many tall buildings and it wasn't long until I recognized one particular building. At the top there were big letters that spelled out WAYNE. Wayne Enterprising was the company that owned that building, as in Bruce Wayne. And I knew of Bruce Wayne for the radical behavior of taking the whole Russian ballet on a ship one week about a year ago. Stupid billionaires always think they can do what ever they want.

"Welcome to Gotham Taylor. Guess you never dreamed of ever coming here now did you?" The Irish said, looking back at me in the rear view.

"Never," I said, "But I never planned on getting kidnapped by the Joker either."

"Ya, well the Joker never has a plan-"

"He just does things," I said, finishing for him. He just nodded and kept driving. We passed a big building that looked like it was getting ready for Christmas. There were men hanging up lights in the trees and putting fake snow in the windows. Also there was this big evergreen tree being decorated too. No wonder. Christmas was going to arrive in a couple weeks. And I knew this was the mall because I saw a sign that had all the stores listed as we drove by. Gucci and Cabaña, Macy's, Dillard's, Hollister. Pacsun was the target for me. But the mall was for later. First the grocery store.

We went to a big Kroger's in the down town area (I was just glad it wasn't the Narrows) and started the adventure there. We grabbed three carts, for we were going to need a lot of stuff. The three men and the Irish didn't seem too happy when I started bossing them around, but frankly, I didn't give a damn. I was the one doing cooking, and they were just along for the ride. And I've dealt with worse. I used to take Regan grocery shopping with me. She was worse than all of them put together. She'd whine and complain, then beg and argue with me. If I could deal with her, I could get through this with these guys' silent protest. The only thing they really argued with me about was when we passed the beer isle. It was horrible. Each guy looked like they were about to rip my head off. And the whole time the store owner watched then ran off because he probably peed his pants. But I wasn't going to be surrounded by twenty drunken men back at the warehouse. Nor was I going to drink any myself. The Irish was the only guy that didn't argue with me, and sort of ended the argument. In the end, I won.

I shopped for deals. If I could get five gallons of milk for six dollars, then we needed to get it. I was even gladder that we had two refrigerators, because we were going to need both. If I could get a deal on anything I was looking for, it went in the carts. And it was a good thing we had gotten three carts. Even with out the beers, we filled each one to the top. And it took six employees to get everything through. Two at each check out. And about ten minutes all together. Which was good. We had spent a good hour there all together, and I wanted to leave. And due to all the bargains, we spent only three hundred and fifty dollars and had gotten everything on the list. Not bad for feeding all the clowns. Even the Irish was surprised.

And it meant I had two hundred and fifty dollars for me to spend. And I would still be looking for deals. If I could have spare change to give back, I would feel better. I mean yeah this was the Joker's money, but still. I'm not the type to spend other people's money, no matter who's it is.

In about twenty minutes after we left (the traffic was horrible) we were indie the mall. It was huge. Gigantic! There were six levels, all full with stores, department stores and restaurants. And the food court was big too. Kenwood look like a playground compared to this place. I was going to have to bring Juniper the next time. Even though we weren't big shoppers, we would love it here.

The first place we hit was Pacsun (thank god that the mall even had it). I liked the clothes there. They were street comfy and looked good. Roxy was the best brand there. It was what people would call tomboy and punk material, which definitely fitted my material. I preferred the shirts and jeans that were snug (which was most of them), and got a lot of green and black (except he jeans were normal colors), but I added some random colors in too, except pink. I _hated _pink.

I even got myself some under clothing. I'm not going to describe those. Don't want anyone imagining what I'm wearing. I also got my self a coat with fake fur lining on the hood. All of it was under seventy five dollars.

I didn't buy anything related to my costumes I had drawn. June was going to make them for me. And I trusted she'd get them tailored perfect for me. Even though there were some clothing items that looked like wanted made for me, I didn't buy them. June was going to need to keep occupied while I 'trained'. Plus if I got caught on the job, they wouldn't be able to trace the clothing.

Then we went up the elevator to a small art store that had numerous sets for sale. I bought a drawing kit and a paint set that was equipped with a stand, paint brushes and a palette. All for thirty dollars. At the Radio Shack next door I was able to get the I-pod dock I wanted that played and charged I-pods at the same time. I was so happy that I had accidently brought my I-pod. Even though I wasn't going to be getting any new songs anytime soon, I was just glad to have it at all. I didn't bother with getting a phone charger. I wasn't going to be in contact with the rest of the people on my list from now on. As soon as my cell phone was dead I was going to throw it away dramatically. Maybe June and I could throw it into the river together. That'd be fun.

On the bottom floor was Borders Book Store. On the elevator ride down the men started to become uneasy. The Irish was looking at a television in the sports bar across the way from us (since the elevator was the glass kind and was sparkly clean) while we were waiting for the rest of the people to load into the elevator. I could barely see due to all the people crammed into the elevator, but all I can see was _National News _flashing against the screen.

"What?" I asked one of them as I was getting pressed against the walls.

"We should get out of here," the Irish said from behind an old lady, "Now."

"Why? I still want to get my books," I said confused.

"I'll explain in the car. I can get your books when you leave to pick up your friend," he said, really irritated and a bit nervous. I wasn't going to mess with him now. I sort of sounded like a spoiled brat. When we got to the level that was the level we parked on in the parking lot, and it took us a great deal of trouble to get out. The Irish wasn't going to let me walk my pace either. He was moving fast, and surprisingly, not tripping over his own feet. The two big guys that had sat in the back with me dragged me along. Not that it looked suspicious at all. I just got weird stares from people as we passed and I kept my face low as I was dragged along. I wanted to get loose from them, but it would look like a kidnapping and I wasn't trying to escape.

When we finally got to the car I was bugging the Irish again about why we had to leave. I was shoved into the middle seat in the back while my bags were being thrown into the back.

"Why? Was the police there?" I asked.

"Indirectly," he said, and turned on the car.

"Explain to me a little bit more please. I need details," I huffed. And he sighed.

"Your face was on the news. The kidnapping news has spread to Gotham. They know you're here because the Joker has been active the past three days. Your face popped up as well as his. And anyone would have noticed you if we stayed there any longer," said the big black guy next to me. His name was Brutus (which I found out when he and the other big guys were arguing with me over buying beer) and he sounded and looked like Denzel Washington. Guess he was the thug version since he had a tattoo on the right side of his neck that probably spread to his shoulder and had some scars. The worst detail that made him and Denzel Washington differ was an arc shaped scar parallel to his right eye. Sort of like Luffy from that cartoon One Piece. How I knew that, I didn't know. Had to be someone I knew that had watched it.

"So I'm not just a local kidnapped girl, but a national kidnapped girl," I mused, "So I really am going to need that mask."

"And maybe a new look. Your hair is the most recognizable so that should go first," Brutus replied.

"Have fun, this hair is resistant to change," I retorted sarcastically.

"My wife is a hairstylist. She has dealt with hair like yours before. Anyway you'd want it," he replied, "Especially straight hair."

"My hair is as stubborn as me. Trust me, I've tried,"

"She knows how to do it properly little girl. Do you want to be hidden well or not?"

I sighed. I already knew where this was going. I wanted hair like I had drawn with the costumes I designed. The Fox's hair. I was becoming like the Fox physically more and more. Even better. The Joker was getting what he was wanting with out me wanting it. He had to have done this on purpose. So I was starting to get pissed off. And the more I thought about it, the more pissed I got.

The rest of the ride back to the warehouse was silent. I fidgeted, anxious to get back. The feeling like of wanting to go back was still a mystery. And slightly annoying. I was still pissy and the mysterious desire was getting to become too much. The Joker made my face known to all of Gotham. And to the United States. What was the point? If I was going to be here, I mine as well not be known here.

We pulled into the garage and I was even more anxious to get out. The Joker was just standing there with his arms crossed and grinning. Over all, he looked smug, and didn't look like he had left that spot since we left. He also looked like he knew something. Which pissed me off even more than I already was.

We parked and he opened the door for me and I went to the trunk to start getting the bags. I stayed close to the car avoiding his arms that he had spread out and ready for me. I glared and opened up the trunk. He looked at me confused with his arms still open, and then to the Irish, who shrugged.

_Yeah right,_ I thought. The Irish should know why I'm pissed off. I grabbed my mall bags since I didn't want any of the guys seeing the under garments I had bought. That would really set me off. The rest of the men grabbed a couple bags more than I had, but they had bigger hands and bigger arms. They could do the heavy lifting for all I cared.

I stormed through the kitchen and past the guys in the main room. All I noticed was that not all of the guys were there. Some must have gone into the sleeping room to hang out. But I didn't care. I kept on heading to my bedroom. I noticed some one was following, but not very close.

The glass on the grounded sounded as angry as me. It crunched and squealed underneath my feet.

_AAAAAAAA-EEEEEEEEE!_

_PSYCHO!_

"Shut up," I hissed. It was just pissing me off even more.

_AAAAHHHHH!_

"I SAID SHUT UP!" I bellowed. I didn't care if anyone else heard me. I just wanted the stupid glass to shut up. I stomped even heavier to make me feel better all the way to my room, and slammed the door. I threw my bags on the floor and collapsed on the bed, pulling a black pillow over my face. I kept fuming, imagining the worse to happen. I could get caught, a hand full of the people on the list would die. If I was recaptured I wouldn't care. Then I got mad that I didn't care.

I was so zoned out that I didn't hear the person enter. As soon as I heard them kick the bag though, I was back on Earth.

"Get out," I growled in a poor attempt in sounding threatening. I heard the person hesitate, but continued towards me. I groaned then sat up to see Brutus standing there with a note card in his hands. He looked like he could be concerned less with why he was here in my room, but was still there. He handed me the card then waited for me to respond. I glanced down at it, then back up at him.

"What?" I said.

"Just want to say one thing. You remind me of my daughter back at home. Try not to be too pissed off with the Joker. He is taking you under his wing. He does seem to care more about you than anyone else at the moment," he said. I grimaced. He meant well. This guy really wasn't a thug, well by stereotype he was, but his heart was good. But I couldn't help but say the truth.

"If he is really trying to care of me, shouldn't he _try_ _**not**_ to piss me off?" I said. He chuckled, "When is young girl like you never pissed off?" He turned to leave. I felt bad. I was a bit too blunt sometimes. I propped myself up onto my hands.

"Brutus?" I asked before he totally disappeared from my sight. His head popped back in.

"Mh-hm?" he asked.

"Thanks," I said, nodding my head. He smiled like a father would do to his young child saying something childishly wise. Then he disappeared. I plopped back onto, staring at the ceiling with boredom. I felt a little bit better now that Brutus had tried to talk some sense into me, but it wasn't the helpful kind of sense. The Joker was irritating me to no end. Why couldn't I be mad?

I finally got bored enough to sort out my stuff. There was a small closet with few hangers, but enough for the time being. And the drawing kit went in on a shelf. The I-pod dock went on the small table and I plugged my I-pod in. Oh how I longed to listen to my tunes.

The song "Do You Know" by Enrique Iglesias came on and I groaned. It was about how this guy really liked this girl, but she wasn't showing it back. Well that's how I interpreted it. Other people might say something else, but I could care less. I rushed over to the stand to change it.

"Don't change it," came a voice from the hallway. I was about to press the skip button when the Joker entered. I backed away, not taking my eyes off of him. He looked slightly threatening and his eyes were dark. Something was setting him off. Maybe the song was irritating him.

"You know, this song is sooo… _true_," he said and I gulped. His pitch in his voice started normal, than it dropped down a little deeper. I knew he had been thinking this over.

"So true in my life. Want to know why Taylor?" he asked, closing the gap between us and pulled me into him by the neck of my shirt. I didn't resist, it probably would have made him even worse. He shook me slightly, and I guessed that he wanted me to ask why.

"Why," I croaked. He drew his face nearer to mine.

"Because the one person I want to be close to won't let me," he said.

_Great, he's having another break down. _ The voice in my head said.

_Shut up!_ I yelled back and was shaken once again. I grabbed his hands and yelled, "Enough!"

The Joker stopped and let go, surprised that I wasn't cooperating.

"If you want that person close, then you'll just have to show them that!" I yelled. I had had enough. I was annoyed and a stupid voice in my head just randomly popped up in my head.

"Haven't I showed you enough? Hmmm? Or are you looking for more?" The Joker said, gripping my face. I slapped his hands away.

"No you have shown me enough," I hissed.

"Then why are you all mad? Hmmm? Didn't you just agree with me?"

"Yes. Am I not allowed being mad?" I retorted.

"Not at me," he said. I scowled. He was going to have to get used to it. I was pissed off easily. He put a finger on my chin and tapped it. I really wasn't enjoying this talk. Though my heart was pounding strangely from his closeness to me, I really wasn't in the mood.

I stepped back and fiddled with the I-pod. I needed something that would calm me and the Joker. I looked over my shoulder to see him just standing there, and was looking at me with a weird and unreadable expression. As if he was trying to figure something out, like what was going on in my head. I sighed (I do sigh a lot) once again. He was strange like his sudden mood swings. I was scanning through the sings until I found "Addicted" by Kelly Clarkson. Good beat and a calming affect sometimes. I turned around to find the Joker leaving. He smiled as if he made a connection with the song that I didn't get. Like he thought I was meaning to say something. He was about to disappear into the hallway when I had something.

"Do you want to know _why I _was pissed?" I said without turning to him. I heard him stop and say, "Why?"

"Because I was on the news. The nation knows I am here," I said and twisted my head fifteen degrees to the right so I could see him from the corner of my eye. He had one hand on the door with that hand gripping the door frame. He was facing me and his eyes met mine as his grin widened.

"And you think I have something to do with it?"

"Uh, yeah," I said turning to him, "Since you seem to know what I'm talking about right away."

He laughed leaning forward and had his hands clasped on his chest. He looked like he was happy that I was accusing him of it. More like he was happy that I knew or he had something to show off. He jerked forward, took my hand and dragged me out into the hallway. I didn't fight back. I knew better now. I looked behind me to see that as my feet slid, I made a trail through the glass like skis would have. But we weren't going towards the main room. Instead we were going down further into the hall.

I hadn't had much time to explore, but my interest hadn't been sparked anyways. But now it was. He was pulling me into the unknown and finally there wasn't anymore broken glass on the floors. And yet there were still more hallway to go. We twisted through the ware house, and I knew I was going to have a hard time finding my way back. I was going to have to rely on the Joker to find my way in this place. I never did realize how big this place was. Even in the car I didn't even bother to notice that the warehouse was several stories tall.

We went up several flights of stairs and the Joker didn't seem to slow down at all. For a guy that didn't look like he did anything to keep himself in shape, he was able to run fast and stay with the pace. And when we did slow down, it didn't happen till we exited the stair well, took several turns down the hall and came to two big wooden double doors. They weren't anything special, but you could tell that whoever owned this place before the Joker got here stayed behind these doors. The Joker was the boss now, and in his screwed up mind he must have thought this is where he should stay. I would have too, but I wouldn't have just let the men stay in just the area they recently were in since this place was so huge. Or may be they were allowed, just didn't want to come back here. It was pretty dismal and dark.

The Joker shoved the door open and spread his arms out wide over his head as he strolled in. I followed and gazed around the room, soaking in the details. It was huge, and there was a huge amount of emptiness in it. There was a plain bed and a chalkboard (even bigger than the one in the main room) with smaller writing and seemed to be more in detail. Then there was a television. It wasn't very big, but big enough to see from the door. The news was on, with my face on it.

"I recorded it!" the Joker said gleefully. I rolled my eyes and he led me to the television. He grabbed the remote and pressed a button. The "choose your recording" menu and scrolled down to the "Taylor Kidnapping". He clicked enter and a guy with either a really bad haircut or a wild toupee popped up on the screen.

"And now for some breaking news that has the whole nation wondering. A young teenage girl, Taylor Walden, was kidnapped last Friday on Thanksgiving by the Joker. She's from Cincinnati, Ohio and was taken against her will when the Joker interrupted her family's belated Thanksgiving dinner. Here is a picture of her."

A picture of my school picture (which I detested with all of my heart) and another of me on Christmas with my sisters the year before. Paige was all primped up for the picture, and Regan was all wide-eyed and ready to open her presents, while I was just standing there waiting for the photo to be over. Kodak moment huh?

It wasn't the greatest picture the media could have posted of me, but it was closest to my personality. Well when I'm doing something I don't enjoy. Well I didn't quite enjoy Picture Day either, but I did smile for my mom's sake. If I didn't smile, well, it'd be my head and a couple weeks of feuds between us.

"A couple of hours ago we received a phone call from her captor, letting us know that young Taylor is still alive," he said, and nodded to whoever was controlling the audio. Just before the screen changed to a plain picture with a tape recorder, the reporter lost the stupid toupee from nodding. I stifled a laugh, but kept my attention on the screen.

'Hello Gotham,' came a very familiar voice from the television. I rolled my eyes. The Joker did partake in my exposure. He gripped the bicep part of my arm and gestured for me to keep listening with the other hand.

"This is the new turning point in which I am creating. Miss Taylor Walden _will_ remain alive and well. I am a man of my word."

'You're too obvious. Anyone could tell that you have something up your sleeve," I remarked. He squeezed my arm again and I became quiet.

"Don't want to miss the best part now do you?"

'If anyone tries to rescue her, though I doubt you even know where to begin, that brave but stupid person will die, while Taylor stays mine. And Batman, be wary. I have special present for you," and then his insane laughter was cut off by the reporter that was still fixing his toupee.

"Well, the Police Department urges all civilians to-" and the Joker hit several buttons until he found the button to turn it off. Funny how hard it is to find the power button when it's the biggest button on the remote, but you have to hand it to him, he probably never watched that much TV. I turned my head slightly to see his expression. He seemed pleased that I still wasn't protesting to what he had done.

Honestly, I wasn't mad anymore. He didn't bring it up in the first place. Maybe. The way the news alert put it made it seem like he hadn't.

"Still unhappy? Hm?" he asked. "Cause it looks like you're eating a poison filled lemon."

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head, even though the last comment sort of ticked me off. I wasn't unhappy per say, I was thinking. Both of his hands went up to my shoulders and it felt like he placed his forehead on the back of my head. I heard him inhale, which was muffled because his face was covered by the pillow called my hair.

"You smell so… _delicious_," he said, inhaling again. His hands began to slide down my arms.

"It's called hair conditioner. I suggest you try some," I retorted, feeling a little uncomfortable. He chuckled and mumbled something along the lines of either, 'that's my spunky girl' or 'that's a funky curl'. I decided to go with the first one. So I wanted to change the subject, his hands were down at my wrists now.

"So, um, what time is it?" I asked a little awkwardly. His right hand stopped and he brought it up to his eye level. His left hand was firmly gripping my left wrist and his thumb was slowly rubbing my skin. Sort of made me shiver on the inside, though I wasn't sure why.

"Six," he said.

"So, should I go make something to eat? I'm sure all the clowns are going to be getting hungry real soon," I said, hoping he'd ease up on what ever he was going for. His head moved from the back of my head to the right side of my head.

"They can go out to eat like they always do. We can stay right here. No one to bother us. No one." He said. I turned to face him. I did my best to keep from looking uncomfortable. I knew what was going on through his head. Some what. He may be an insane genius, but he still was a man. And his eyes were swimming with desire and ahem, sickening lust. So I placed my hands on his shoulders and ever so slightly leaned forward on my tip toes so I could reach his ear. I was average height for my age, but he still was taller than me.

"How about this? I make dinner for just the two of us. Nothing fancy. Just something simple enough to make in say, twenty minutes?" I said.

His smiled squished together and his eyes glistened. He licked his lips. And it wasn't the little habit kind he did all the time. This was the full blown I'm-liking-this-idea mixed with I'm-hungry-for-something-more-too. I rolled my eyes and dropped my arms. His arms came forward for my waist but I stepped back and went around him easily. I wasn't going anywhere near that bed of his. He was such a guy.

As I headed for the door I heard him humming behind me, a weird happy tune. It wasn't like anything I had heard before. But bits and pieces of it were recognizable. Knowing him, he was probably mixing a whole bunch together. It wasn't long until he was close behind me again, with a hand on my shoulder. I hoped he wasn't going to attempt anything else. Right now, I need him to show me back.

Surprisingly, he was somewhat cooperative. The only thing he annoyed me with was him trying to tickle and make me spaz by poking me in various places on my body. I didn't react to either. I wasn't ticklish, and I don't easily spaz either. But I was down to the last straw when he poked my in the butt. I never have liked it when people touched that area. And he was getting annoyed because I wasn't reacting like most people would.

Out of the corner of my eye I watched him. When his shoulder closest to me would move in an upward direction, a finger would prod me somewhere. And that time it was to my butt, for a second time. So I waited again, letting on no sign of retaliation to catch him off guard and to let him know I wasn't going to be a little toy to him.

When his shoulder began to lift I swatted his hand away, annoyed as ever.

"He-ho-ho-ha-ha!" he laughed and tried again. And once again, I slapped his hand away, except a little harder this time.

"You know, you're fun. Not as fun as Bats, but all in all, your spunk makes up for it," he said, rubbing his hand. I scoffed.

"I don't find it fun. I don't like it when people touch me in certain areas,"

'I like it. I like it _a lot_," he replied, grinning really perverted like.

"Pervert," I scowled.

"I am a man," he said and wrapped an arm around me waist. I pushed away and crossed my arms. I was so glad June was coming. I needed someone civilized!

When we finally reached the main room, it was empty. All the clowns had left, most likely to get something to eat since I had been absent too long to make them anything for their stomachs. I headed straight for the kitchen, hoping that cooking would somewhat lift my spirits and distract the Joker.

The Irish and the other two men (and maybe some other guys) in the car had to have put the groceries away when I stormed off, and to my surprise in an orderly fashion. Who could have thought it was possible for these men? Out of the deep freeze I pulled out a ham slice and threw it into the microwave to defrost and busied myself with finding a can of crème of mushroom soup. That was something I had troubles finding. The cans were put on no particular order in the pantry. So I found canned veggies mixed with canned soups and vice versa. And same went with the spices. It was ridiculous how it took ten minutes to find crème of mushroom soup, Italian seasoning and mint flakes.

I was glad that I had bought pots and pans since this place lacked ones without rust. I needed a compound pot for the asparagus and a dish to bake the ham in. And those things weren't all that cheap. Deals in those meant they weren't all that great.

Out of the frig I took out the Worchester sauce, cheddar cheese and asparagus. The meal was going to take a little bit more than twenty minutes, but I didn't care. And he probably didn't either. He had carried in two chairs from the main room and just sat there, watching me.

I mixed the spices, the can of crème of mushroom soup and a teaspoon or two (I never really measured much when it came to my own recipes) of Worchester sauce into a metal bowl, which was one of a small amount of utensils that wasn't rusted. While I was still waiting for the ham to defrost, I started to boil the water for the asparagus in the compound pot. It had two parts, a strainer and the pot. The strainer went inside the pot and this handy cooking ware was great to use for pasta and steaming vegetables.

"I don't like vegetables," the Joker murmured as I prepared the asparagus.

"Too bad. Your eyes look sunken in. When was the last time you ate any fruits or veggies?"

"A long time, can't really remember. They taste horrible,"

"Well, I'm sure you'd like to live instead of dying from deficiency of vitamin C. Knowing you you'd like to go out with a bang." I said. He scowled, "Only two."

"Fine by me. It's better than nothing," I replied. I cut up six all together. I liked asparagus. The microwave beeped and I pulled out the ham. I flopped it onto to the baking dish and poured the mixture over it and turned the oven to three hundred and fifty degrees. The water was still not boiling so I shredded the cheese for the asparagus. By the time that was done, it was time to put in the ham, which needed to be put in for thirty minutes. And I wasn't going to stand there waiting, so I pulled out a Sprite for the Joker and poured a glass of milk for myself. He looked at me with confusion.

"Where is the beer?" he asked.

"Isn't it obvious? Not here," I said. Sipping on my milk and added, "I hate alcohol."

"Ah, what a disappointment. It really is good stuff,"

"Ha, what ever. I'd rather do anything else than drink that disgusting crap," I said. He perked up when I said the word anything.

"Anything? Like killing?"

"Fine then. I'll rephrase that. _Almost_ anything. There are exceptions, like killing."

"What about _banging_?" he asked as he leaned towards me. I backed away, disgusted out of my mind.

"What the hell? No!" I yelled getting out of my chair. No, I jumped out of my chair. I was furious. And I heard him sigh behind me.

"Why are you upset now? I'm only joking."

"Because I'm not here to be mere entertainment when you feel like it. I'm here because your sorry ass brought me here for 'the Fox'. Why not go find some girl that could care less about her life and do her?" I said, picking up the knife and cutting board and threw it into the sink. I looked over my shoulder to see him grinning insanely. I scowled and he laughed.

"There is no other girl I'd rather have here right now. Sure some other ones would drop their panties when I asked, but you're the only girl that wouldn't be pleading to let me let you live while at my knees when I get angry. I know the others would. Plus you'd stay if I did you. And you fight back when I want you to do something you don't like to do, like right now. I like that,"

"So if I give up and beg for my life, I'll be set free?" I retorted sarcastically (since I already knew what the answer was) and looked him straight in the eyes even though we were far apart.

"Nope. You also care for someone easily. I can tell you like me," he said, staring right back at me. I blushed and turned back to the sink to turn on the water. He was getting the better of me. I was getting frustrated and making a weak argument.

"Not," I said. He laughed, "Not? He-he-he-ho-ho-ha! You haven't been awake for a day and we're already fighting like an old married couple! And I know, oh I know, that when you like someone, you either argue with almost everything he says, or you blush a lot. Sometimes even push them away. Like you did to me this morning and when you got back."

I scowled. He had me cornered. Not that what he all the way correct. I didn't have that kind of feelings for him, and I wasn't planning on it either. So I wanted something witty to say before it became too late to be witty. But nothing came to mind.

"The fact that you know that is creepy," I said and leaned against the edge of the sink. He laughed. (I was mentally kicking myself HARD cuz it came out so wrong and sounded like an idiot)

"So are you admitting it?" he asked.

"NO! I didn't say that! I've only been here one day and you're already… gah," I retorted and turned to turn of the water. I felt the heat flooding into my cheeks. I was getting embarrassed, and I wished he didn't know that. This guy was annoying.

I heard the pot start to whistle and rushed over to take off the top before it boiled over. I dropped in the asparagus. I put the top on slanted to avoid anymore problems. They needed about ten minutes or until they were tender (not too much or they'd taste icky). This meant that the ham was going to take another eighteen minutes, so I was going to be able to clean the dishes well before it was done.

I went to back to the sink and poured some dish washing liquid into the water. It was going to be hell when June and I were going to have to clean up after dinners. They can clean there own bloody plates. I was not cleaning their plates every night. And I think the Joker would back me up when it came to setting this up. But now wasn't a good time.

Behind me I could hear him getting up out of his chair, probably bored with my silence, but I really didn't care if he was doing. If he was leaving, well, I would eat with out him. It didn't bother me at all, I was used to it. But the sound of the door opening and closing never reached my ears. Instead I felt arms snake around my waist and his face (lips most likely) pressed against my neck. I shivered slightly and like earlier after watching the news, I didn't know why. I wasn't really enjoying this, but I wasn't comfortable with it either. I was getting attention I have never gotten before, even though I didn't want it.

His head moved upward and his breath brushed against my skin while his arms stayed firm against my stomach, pulling me into him. A backwards hug was the best way to name it, though I felt like I was being caged over being embraced. I wasn't going to try to get away. Yet. I decided I was going to test him. See how far he could keep himself under control. If he crossed the boundary line too hastily, well, I already had something in mind.

"You seem so… tense," he said, "Why not try to loosen up? Hm? I'm sure if you tried, you might… _enjoy this_." He pressed his lips against the tip top of my jaw line and I wasn't going to react. He wasn't being _too_ bad. I knew he could do worse.

"How about we turn you around eh? So I can see what's going on behind your eyes," he said turning me away from the sink and into him. My hands were still soaked and a ring of bubbles were bracelets on my wrists, so I laid them on crease of his arm.

His eyes were focused, like they had been when he had held the knife to Regan's cheek a couple days ago.

"You still aren't giving in girly, are you? Your eyes still lock me out. Even when you're backed up in a corner,"

"Who said I was backed up in a corner(literally)?" I asked. A hissing came from the stove and looked to see the water flowing out of the pot. The asparagus was getting ruined, and that started to piss me off. He gripped my chin and pulled my attention back to him.

"How about you and I forget about dinner," he whispered into my face (which his breath smelled like something died. He really needed a toothbrush too), "And go back to my room. No, no no… even better. How about your room because your sheets are fresh and new? Hm? Just like you." He smiled. I narrowed my eyes, but I smiled deceivingly. To him, it must have looked like I was agreeing with him, but I had had enough. He had crossed the line.

I grabbed his arms and stomped on his foot. He flinched, but it was enough to surprise him. Since he flinched, his eyes closed from it, giving me an open window. I threw my head forward and up, landing my forehead onto his. He let go as he stumbled back, and I did too. The fucking bastards that made those god damn action movies made it seem so easy! God damn it! Those fuckers were going to pay.

I looked over to him, and he was bent over like I was with his hands on his knees. Except he was laughing. Looking at me, he seemed happier than a girl scout in July that I had hit him hard in the head. And since laughing is contagious, I began to laugh too.

"Um, what did we miss?" came a voice from across the room. Both the Joker's and my head swirled to find the Irish standing there with a Wendy's bag in his hand. I smiled at the Joker and he returned the smile, and we laughed even harder.


	5. Transformation 1 ending redone

I woke up in my new bed, except only on top of the covers and still in my clothes from last night. I remembered a lady walking with Brutus (which had to have been his wife because she was clinging onto him for dear life) that seemed all freaked out and sort of up tight with all the thugs around. I guessed she didn't really approve of Brutus' job, but wasn't going to complain. Brutus didn't introduce me to her, just led her straight to a room down the hall from mine and didn't say a word about her to anyone.

The ham that I had prepared turned out to be fine, but the asparagus was ruined. And of course, the Joker wasn't bothered by that. Of course. But we ate the ham and some of the guys had brought beers back. I wasn't too happy with that. They were deliberately trying to piss me off, and the Joker enjoyed himself with a couple. Of course. It wasn't long until they all were having a grand old time with their booze. Singing stupid tunes, the Irish did a jig (though he couldn't stand up straight for more than five seconds). And the Joker, well, he was getting really clingy and stupid. After five minutes into the mess I was locking my door and collapsed onto my bed, not even bothering with pajamas and getting under the covers.  
I changed into a new pair of jeans, a black tank top and a purple over shirt that reminded me of those lumber jack shirts, except it was purple and only went to my elbows. I liked it. It was me. Then I tried to straighten out my hair so that it looked fairly decent. Normally after I slept it looked fairly horrid. I slipped on some socks and shoes and grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste that I had bought yesterday. The only place I knew so far to brush my teeth was the kitchen. As quietly as I could, I walked to the kitchen. I really did need to be quiet. Every single guy had found a place to crash besides the room given to them. I mean, there room was big. How could they not have made it to one of the mattresses in there?

Making it across the main room was an obstacle course. It seemed like the guys had brought home about two score (forty) of friends. And it sounded like it. There was a great deal of snoring going on.

There wasn't an easy way of getting to the kitchen. I couldn't scoot around them, I actually had to jump over them. When I jumped over the Irish, I almost kicked him in the face, and saw that he slept with his eyes open. What a creeper. It freaked me out slightly.

When I finally got over to the door, I noticed I had not spotted the Joker. Like I could careless about his drunken ass, but it still made me wonder. Maybe he had been able to manage to get himself back up to his room. Through the door, I could hear the kitchen sink going steadily. Hopefully someone was using it over someone had left it on. I opened the door slightly and squeezed myself through. I looked to the sink to see the lady from last night at the sink cleaning something. And slumped over the bench was the Joker, still sleeping (and surrounded by beers).

"Morning," I greeted as I walked towards her. She looked over her shoulder and nodded as she grumbled in return. She didn't look like a morning person to me, but she was up.

She had a curvy build but still thin (not deathly thin, but just right. I wish I had her shape) and looked to be about five feet and eleven inches. She had long silky midnight hair and her skin was very dark. And very pretty. She was wearing casual slacks and a deep purple short sleeved shirt that had a black belt wrapping around her at the waist. It suited her.

"So, um, why are you here?" I asked, trying to make small talk as I picked up some empty cans and threw them into the garbage. I was going to stow this some where to recycle them. I knew the men were going to just throw them away in a land fill.

"Because Brutus brought me to do someone's hair," she replied. She didn't sound as grumpy as the look she had given me. Maybe the look was just from being tired.

"So you are Brutus' wife?" I asked. I already knew the answer.

"Yes,"

"Cool. You seem nice. Sort of weird that he'd bring you here though," I said.

She looked over her shoulder and gave me a weird look, "Why do you say that?"

"Um, because I thought that the guys were going to take me somewhere to get my hair done."

"Oh, so you're the one I'm going supposedly be challenged to do your hair,"

"You can put it that way. But Brutus said you would be able to make it happen,"

"You seem to like my husband," she said. I didn't like the tone of her voice. She sounded jealous that I was able to talk about him.

"He's a good guy. I only got here yesterday and he's the only guy that's treated me like, um a teenager. Not a toy or an enemy." I said, hoping she'd understand.

"Oh, for a second I thought you were going to say something else. That would be a brave thing to say if you had," she laughed. I shushed her as the Joker grumbled something. He rolled his head slightly and his eye brows were furrowed. Like he was in a bad dream. We both froze. I guess we both knew that we shouldn't wake him up. I didn't know what his mood would be when he woke up, and I didn't want a grumpy Joker. He lifted his head up slightly and his eyes fluttered open slightly. I got down on the floor and out of sight. I don't know why, but I did. She did too. Maybe if he woke up slightly and saw us there he would decide to get going. If he didn't see us there, then he might decide to go back to sleep.

No sound came from where he was at, so I peeked to see what he was doing. He was back to his sleeping position again, except his eyes weren't fully closed.

_Crap_ I thought.

"Morning girly," he grumbled.

"Morning," I moaned back and stood up fully, and so did Brutus' wife.

"Think you can hide from me? Even when I'm not fully awake?" he asked.

"Um, yeah. How could you know where I was when you were sleeping? That's the whole point in sleeping. You have no idea where you are," I said then walked over to the empty sink that Mrs. Brutus (I was tired of just calling her 'the lady' or 'she', but I still didn't know her name) wasn't using, and I pulled out my tooth brush and tooth paste. He chuckled, "Who said I was sleeping?"

"Well you were,"

"Ever heard of faking it?" he said. I scowled and shoved the toothbrush into my mouth. He laughed and started to pick at something on his palms. I spat out the toothpaste into the sink and asked, "What are you doing?"

He glanced at me and back at his hand. He raised his palm to where I could see it. His palm was filled with shards of glass. I gasped and dropped the toothbrush. I heard Mrs. Brutus do the same, except she didn't rush over to inspect his hand.

The Joker didn't retaliate when I took his hand to get a better look. It was a gruesome sight, though it wasn't bleeding… anymore. His hand was caked in his own red substance. Great thing I had a strong stomach, though I don't think I would be able to be able to handle it more blood than this.

"How did you do this?" I asked gently letting go.

"I wanted to visit you after you went to bed last night. I tripped over a passed out guy," he said nonchalantly. And I thought he was a genius.

"This why I hate alcohol," I grimaced. He laughed, "Who said I was drunk?"

"I said! You were sing Danny Boy like my dad would when he was drunk! And if that guy hadn't gotten drunk and if you hadn't of had as many beers as you did you wouldn't have all this glass in your hand," I scowled.

"Well if you had stayed out of your room I wouldn't have felt that I needed to visit you," he retorted.

"I wasn't going to be surrounded by a whole bunch of drunken men!"

"I would have made sure you were fine," he replied, "Not one of them would have touched you while I was around."

"And what about you? Would you have listened to me if I asked you to stop whatever you were doing?

"Maybe. Depends on what it was you wanted me to stop," he grinned perversely. I glared at him and he glared back. Mrs. Brutus began to laugh and both the Joker and I stopped glaring at each other to look at her.

"You two sound like Brutus and I when we first started to live together," she said, still laughing. I looked at the Joker then looking away quickly. Ew. But of course, the Joker laughed.

"See girly? I'm not the only one that can tell," he said poking me in the shoulder.

"Can tell what?" I retorted.

"That you like me," he teased. I hissed, "Don't you dare bring that up again. The Joker and Mrs. Brutus looked at each other and laughed. I scowled then stalked over to a drawer to get a small knife to see if I could get some of the shards of glass out of his hand.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked, hiding his hand behind his back.

"I think you lost too much blood. No wonder you're spouting nonsense, you're delirious. Even worse you could have and infection starting to spread. May be that's why you have no idea what you're talking about," I retorted. I was annoyed with his antics. I know I was making up the delirium and the blood loss, but I wanted revenge. He was embarrassing me.

"Nope, I'm not letting you do that,"

"Who else is going to? You could die," I said with fake horror.

"He-he, you actually care!" he replied, backing out of his chair.

"No, I just want you to shut up and let me get the glass out of your fricken hand!" I said. A hand wrapped around my wrist and squeezed until I let go of the knife. I hadn't noticed Mrs. Brutus moving towards me.

"That's enough. He is your boss. I think he'll want someone who knows what they're doing over a young girl with a knife," she said. I scowled at the Joker and he stuck out his tongue. I stuck out mine right back. He laughed and I harrumphed.

"Like me," she said, pulling out a shiny pair of tweezers from behind her back. I snickered as she sat the Joker down and he glared at me. I sat behind him to hold him in his seat as Mrs. Brutus went to work on his hand.

I knew the Joker had a high tolerance for pain, so there really wasn't a reason to hold him in his seat. I just was making me feel better that I was getting revenge somewhat. I would have enjoyed it even more if he had at least grimaced in pain. But no, of course not. The Joker was smiling the whole time. And it wasn't long till Mrs. Brutus let go of his hand. There wasn't any more blood that came out as she worked, and her hand movements were smooth and perfect. No wonder she was a hair stylist.

She went over to the sink to clean the tweezers and the Joker swiveled around in his seat and stuck out his hand. He plastered the kiss-my-boo-boo expression on his face and I returned it with the famous you-got-to-be-kidding-me look.

"I am the boss," he said. I groaned. So I pecked it and made a gesture that said I hated the idea and wanted to puke. I really wasn't going to puke, but I wanted the Joker to know I wasn't happy about it. But he didn't care, he just laughed.

"You two act like two twelve year olds when you fight. You," she said pointing at me, "act like the little tomboy girl that doesn't want anyone to know she likes a guy that most girly girls coo over."

I was going to protest, but she continued by pointing at the Joker.

"And you are the popular guy that every girl adores. But you could careless and like to make a joke out of the girl you like. And your more open to her than she is to you and wont give up till she does It fits. I should know. That's how my youngest went through her middle school years. The tomboy."

I crossed my arms and scowled at the wall. This wasn't happening. Everyone was reading me wrong! I mean, maybe. With all these people

"I like you. You actually agree with me," the joker said. I scoffed, "You like anyone that agrees with you."

He shrugged.

"True, but there are always exceptions to the rule. Like y-"

"I know." I interrupted. Gee he was so annoying in the morning.

"Well then. How about we get you started on your hair? Hm? It'll take a while till I can get it to your preferred look so we mine as well get started now," Mrs. Brutus said as she let the drain go in the sink. I shrugged. Mine as well.

"So, how do you want it?" she asked.

I wasn't sure how to describe it. I mean, sure I could tell her all it, but I wasn't not very good at describing hair.

"Can I draw it?"

"Sure, if that's easiest,"

I hurried to my room to get a pencil and paper then hurried back. Quickly I drew a circle to set up the head then formed a face (not that it mattered, just helped when drawing the hair). She didn't bother to watch, just leaned against the bench. On the other hand, the Joker watched me intently. I wanted straight short hair. More like a mullet type thing. There were a long lock of hair framing each side of my face, and then it got shorter towards the back. I labeled it so she would know that I wanted it redder than it was already. I was strawberry blonde, and I wanted it more fiery red or auburn.

I handed it to her and I heard the Joker mumble, "Fox," underneath his breath.

"So? I like it," I said, sticking my tongue out.

"So do I. This will be tricky, but not impossible," she said, "I'm glad I brought all my stuff."

Mrs. Brutus left to get her gear and I slumped against the bench. I was ready to get my hair done, but it felt weird. All my life my mom said no to having my hair straightened permanently. And now, I had my chance. But I felt a tug to keep my hair. It was one of the only things I had left of myself from my old life. Would I be able to get it back. Would changing my hair change me? It sounded silly be so worried over the hair I've always hated. What was holding me back? Easy. The memory of Mom, Dad, Paige and Regan. My family.

Rough hands rubbed against my back. Up and down and again. It was relaxing, but awkward. And if it was awkward, it could only be one person.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked grumpily.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm rubbing your back. Trying to be a good _boyfriend_," he said into my ear. I sighed. At least his hands weren't wandering in a perverted way. But still where did he get the idea we were a couple?

"Does this feel good?" he asked as he rubbed the nape of my neck. It did feel good. But I wasn't going to reply. No hints of pleasure were going to escape. But he kept rubbing that spot until I couldn't help but groan slightly.

"So it does feel good," he purred, "Why don't you give up and tell me what is going on inside your head."

"What fun would that be? Besides, there is nothing you'd be interested with in here," I retorted. He stopped rubbing my neck and went for my shoulders.

"I am _very _interested," he said into my ear.

"Yeah right,"

"I am,"

"Not. If you were interested, you would ask the right questions," I said and propped my head up on my arms. From the corner of my eye I could see the Joker thinking.

"Don't hurt yourself," I said and closed my eyes.

"Well, what would you rather be doing right now?" he asked. I opened one eye to look at him. What the hell was he asking that for?

"You told me to ask the right questions, so I'm asking random ones,"

"Fine. I would rather be in my bed at home texting my friends or online doing absolutely nothing,"

"That's boring. What comes to mind when I say Mickey Mouse?"

"What the hell are you getting at?"

"Just answer the question,"

"Kids,"

"What about pearls?"

"Pirates of the Caribbean, expensive, girly,"

"Girly?" he asked

"Not me," I retorted. Why was he even bothering?

"How about tiramisu?" he asked.

"Fun," I replied.

"How is tiramisu fun?"

"Its fun to say. And if you blow it up."

"Never tried it."

"Its fun," I said. He laughed and the door slammed open with about half a dozen guys plodding into the room, still looking half asleep and really grumpy (hangover much?). Rat looked the worst. But hey, Rat naturally looked terrible.

I sat up and the Joker kept rubbing my back. I was starting to get used to it. I actually felt good. But of course, I wasn't going to tell him.

"Morning boss," they all said eventually. Each one threw away a beer bottle or looked for another beer. A guy looked like he was going to puke. Like hurl his brains out. And he did. He spewed into the sink, which smelled like crap and beer and it made me feel queasy. The Joker was mad, and the poor sick dude had to clean it up with his bare hands. Um, sick. I rushed out of there before I got sick. I felt for the poor dude, but I guess he got what he deserved. Once I entered the main room I ran into Mrs. Brutus.

"Aren't we ready?" she asked pointing to the kitchen.

"Let's say the sink was occupied by a sick dude," I said.

"Okay then,' she said, "How about a bathroom? Is there one big enough for me to operate?"

I shrugged and looked to the Joker as he exited the kitchen, who was smiling.

"Mine is," he said. Mrs. Brutus shrugged and he led us to his room. The whole way I was arguing with him why I wasn't going to hold his hand. And Mrs. Brutus was laughing while we argued.

"Why not?" he begged.

"Because I don't want to? Hasn't that occurred to you yet?" I retorted, stuffing my hands into my arm pits, "I'm here not even one day and you already expect me to do everything with you."

"That is why I brought you here," he glowered, trying to get me to loosen my hands. Unfortunately, we were on steps. And with him yanking on my hands I felt like I needed to yank back. Which wasn't a good idea at all. Yanking yourself backwards isn't a smart idea when on the stairs. Not at all.

And surprisingly, the Joker reacted in time to grab my failing arms. Sort of like how he did in the garage. I wasn't too happy with myself about how I keep falling. I was surprised. I hadn't even had time to react and he was already in action.

_Geez,_ I thought and latched onto his arm and pulled myself up and he was smiling even bigger.

"Shall I carry you now?"

I narrowed my eyes.

"Go ahead," Mrs. Brutus said. She seemed to be enjoying herself on the other side of the stairs. And the Joker did what she said. Sweeping me up (though I was not happy about it) he began carrying me up the stairs. I protested as much as I could and watched Mrs. Brutus disappear around the corner ahead of us.

"Put me down! Right now!" I said kicking my feet.

"Poor choice of words," he laughed and let go. I gripped onto what ever I could and the only thing available was his neck. My feet fell, but the rest of me was still clinging to him. And we were _really _close. His face was only a couple inches from mine. As my feet touched the floor I was glaring at him. I backed away onto the next step and still glared at him. He still was too close.

The Joker had me locked where I was. His eyes kept me there. And I couldn't look away for an odd reason. He slowly closed the little gap between us, his face letting no emotion through. What ever he was thinking, he was serious about what ever it was.

I was finally able to look down and played with my hands slightly. With one of his he took mine and the other he put a finger to my lips. I wanted to protest but right now he was actually being serious.

My heart was pumping but it wasn't adrenaline. I felt weird in my stomach and it was starting bother me. I never felt like this when a guy got this close. Even the guy that I shared my first kiss didn't made me feel this way. But what if this was all a joke? A big misunderstanding? What would happen to me if I let myself go in too deep.

"How about falling into my arms again girly? I wish you would trust me more. I'm capable of holding you properly," he said. I didn't know what to say. There was something else he was wanting to say, but wasn't saying it, like I was. Was he doing this on purpose? To see who would crumble first into admitting something?

I nodded and he smiled as he picked me. I never thought I was that light, and found it amazing that he was picking me up so easily. I hate to confess it, but I am not less than 110 and not over 150 (not giving anything away, just being subtle). And it was impressive that he was picking me up.

When we finally made it to his room, Mrs. Brutus was already unpacked and had a chair ready for me to sit in to wash my hair and Joker set me into it. And once again, I had a weird pull to not want to be put down by the Joker. I sort of liked him holding me. It was an old recliner chair that smelled slightly of old people and soap, but it was comfy enough.

And yesterday I had had failed to notice the bathroom. And it was big. The recliner chair had to problem fitting in it. The sink was porcelain and the bath tub was the huge spa kind. Bubble jets and everything. No wonder the Joker like it up here. And he kept it fairly clean!

As Mrs. Brutus began to work she explained that she discovered the formula to her straightening hair conditioner about three years ago, but she didn't have many clients that wanted straight hair like I did. But basically it was supposed to work miracles.

"How does it keep it straight?" I asked as the Joker pulled up a chair next to me and just watched. Sort of, more like looked bored and was staring at me while he was zoning off into boredom.

"I'm not sure, but it works. You'll be able to wash it for weeks with out one curl," she said. I grinned, this was going to be great. I had been waiting for this my whole life! Adios horrible hair! Hello new hair! I fidgeted slightly as she ran her fingers through my hair and sat me up.

"Well, we got to let it sit for about an hour. I'm going to find Brutus and see if he could be any help at all," she said. She winked at the Joker who was smiling in a weird way. I had a feeling he was going to be troublesome.

"So, are you liking the idea of looking like the Fox?" he asked as he stood up and looked into the mirror, inspecting his make-up.

"Well, I've always wanted straight hair," I replied. Honestly, now I was beginning to think he wanted the Fox more than me. The Fox wasn't even real, so why even bother pretending.

"Just like you have always been a tomboy?" he asked.

"Yep," I replied. We just stayed there in silence until I finally got up the nerve to ask, "How did you notice me anyways? I was an average girl in a sea of people. How on Earth did-"

"I'm not sure, but I do know it was your eyes," he mused as he sat down next to me.

"I couldn't help but notice the _chaos_ in them as you were walking down the street with your backpack and plugged into your I-pod. And then the next time I saw you when you were sitting at that library in New Richmond with some red head and laughing about something. Your eyes were so..." he trailed off. I was looking at his eyes. He was really getting into this. He took my left hand (since it was closest to him) and rubbed it against his cheek. Okay, may be he was getting too into it.

"You have a potential gift in you. You were just raised differently than, ahem, I. Very different, but you still are capable of chaos. I know you. You are a risk taker at times and you like things that explode. Your moods are just as unpredictable as mine can be and sometimes, sometimes you know you are crazy. Like me. And you know you're a freak, like me. You stood out like a sore thumb back there in those little uptight towns you called your homes," he said, licking his in the annoying way he did from habit. The fact that he knew all this meant that he had been watching me for sometime.

"Creeper," I mumbled. He only laughed. Afterwards we talked about random stuff like explosions and knives. He wanted to personally teach me how to throw knives, though I was hoping to just wound people. I really didn't want to kill anyone. I wasn't made to be a murderer.

When Mrs. Brutus and Brutus came back she brought in a straightener, a box of hair color stuff and some scissors, and then sat me up. My hair had dried out, somewhat. I had really thick hair, and it always took forever to dry. She ran her thin and artsy fingers through my hair and I could tell it was unusually long.

"This straightener I brought is just to help the process. Your hair is already really straight," she said and pulled out a mirror, "take a look for yourself."

Bouncing back at me was my normal image. The eyes, the lips, the nose, but the hair wasn't the same. It was dampened (that I already knew) but was really long. The formula really was a miracle, and made my hair was pin straight. And it was… weird. When Paige got a hair straightener for Christmas years ago, she tested it out on me. And it didn't exactly straighten my hair like it did to hers. It flattened it. Now it was totally straight like Paige's when she straightened her hair.

Mrs. Brutus plugged in the straightener and explained that she was going to straighten it first, cut it, and then color it. If she colored it first, she would waste a lot of hair dye on hair that would be just cut off.

Her hands moved skillfully as I sat still. The Joker and I talked about random things again, and every once in a while Brutus would join in. And when it came to actually cutting of hair, I asked if she could bag it up and let me keep it. I wasn't ready to let go of it yet. The Joker said that that is weird. But hey, look who is talking. He's the guy who stalked a high school girl because she's got potential to be insane. Yeah, um that's not weird at all.

As my hair rained down to the floor, I felt scared. What would happen if I was able to go back to my family because the Joker broke the deal we made? Would they take me back? Let alone recognize me? Would I be able to get my hair back when that day came? Or would this formula stick to my hair until I died?

"How long would it take for my hair to curl again?" I asked. She shrugged.

"Should take about two to three months. If you use the conditioner I give you regularly, then about six to eight months," she mused and gave me the mirror again.

And there I was again, same face, different hair. With my right hand I ran my fingers through it and found it very softer and thinner than what I was used to. The shorter hairs were in the back and the longest framed my face just like it had in the picture I had drawn.

I felt bigger fingers run through my hair and I looked up to see the Joker smiling down on me. He seemed happy with it, so I smiled slightly back.

"I like this. I like it. A lot," he said to Mrs. Brutus who thanked him, "What about you girly?"

"Yep. I do. Thanks."

"Alright, so know I'm going to do the coloration. You won't be able to wash your hair for a day or too when I'm done okay?" she explained as she leaned me back.

Now this was the part I was going to enjoy. I loved red hair! My hair was always too light to be a true red head.

As she rinsed my hair her hands ran through my hair and scrubbed my scalp. It felt so good. I loved it. In circles she scrubbed and then drained the sink. Then she added the hair dye and scrubbed even more. The strong acrid smell of the hair dye reached my nose and I coughed slightly.

"Sorry, it is a bit strong,"

"Yeah, a bit," I coughed.

"Don't worry, we're almost done with it," she replied. I groaned. I really hated the smell.

After five minutes of scrubbing my hair, she was finally done. With a towel she dried my hair and stood my up in front of the mirror.

"Ready?" she asked. I gulped and nodded. With one smooth movement, she whipped off the towel to reveal my new hair.

It was the spitting image of what I had always imagined. Straight and short, fiery red and shiny. Not the mid length, course and curly hair I was used to. It was amazing how it transformed so easily.

Behind me Joker put a hand on each of my shoulders and placed his chin on the top of my head. He sniffed and retaliated with disgust. I laughed, "Doesn't smell good at all."

"I liked the old smell better." He replied with a finger pinching his nose. I sighed.

"So do I, so I guess I'll have to go and get Pantene the next time I go out."

Mrs. Brutus cleared her throat.

"That's something I needed to mention. For the best results, use Pantene or Herbal Essence when you wash it. These next couple days won't matter since you won't be able to wash it because of the hair dye. But you always will have to at the very least use the formula. If you miss one day, no big deal, but make sure you don't miss it too much."

She handed me the bottle she used on me and explained that now that my hair was different, I needed to use less than I normally would. So I wasn't going to be running back to her in a month begging for more. That was going to be hard. I was so used to using a lot.

"Good bye Taylor. I'll see you in about five months to redo the coloration, "She said and then pulled me in to whisper in my ear. I was sure only I could hear because over her shoulder I could see Brutus' face twist in confusion.

"Take care of my husband. _And _play nice with the Joker," she whispered. She pulled back and I could see her face flood with light. Gosh her teeth were white. And she looked like a little girl that got her dad's credit card. She laughed, probably at my horrified face, and Brutus led her out. I groaned. Adults were so… perverted sometimes. I mean I was almost nineteen, the party age, and I wasn't even this bad. Behind me I heard the Joker exhale like a horse (I'm serious, it actually sounded like that) and I turned to face him. I wasn't going to listen to any of this if he was going to go on about the Fox, or the 'I told you that you are going to become like her'. Not a word.

"So… how is the new look doing for you?" he asked, trailing a finger from the tip of bangs, down the side of my face and to the tip of my chin. I turned to the mirror and inspected it more closely and ran my fingers through it. I liked it, but it wasn't fitting my face. But I wasn't going to complain. Mrs. Brutus had worked hard on it.

"I like it," he said behind as he pulled me against him, "A lot."

I chuckled. He had me against him like he had when we we're up here yesterday. My back to him and he was gripping my wrists while rubbing my skin with his thumbs. It was weird seeing this in the mirror. It felt like I was watching a movie. I guess this was how actors felt, except they had bigger heads (probably since they MIGHT only watch their own movies. Not starting anything, I wouldn't know)

"I just wish it didn't smell so bad," he remarked, and I laughed even more.

"Then don't smell it you idiot,"

He blew up his cheeks and squinted his eyes like he was holding his breath. I laughed and slightly turned my head to where I could see his face without the mirror. He smiled down at me. He slowly moved his face to my neck and pressed his lips against my skin and I stomped on his foot. He pulled back sharply and narrowed his eyes. I narrowed mine right back.

"Why not? You have your new hair and I have need for being close to you,"

"Because. It's not what I'm looking for from you," I retorted.

"How about this?" he asked as he picked me up off my feet and pressed his lips against mine all in one movement.

And once again, I didn't want the kiss. I wasn't thinking over what I had just said. Romance wasn't what I was looking for while I was here. I was here to protect my family from one of the most deranged super villains in the history of the world. I mean if the chemistry between us was written in the deal along with the protection, I probably would try with the guy. But it wasn't, and maybe the fact that I had changed a little of myself that I wasn't to into the kiss at the moment. I was still Taylor. I needed to remember who I was and why I had made the deal.

I pulled away and he frowned. I lowered my eyes away so I didn't have to look at him. I was sure he wasn't liking that he was the only one trying when it came to the supposed 'relationship', but I never volunteered to be in it either. I let my head sink slightly and back away. He didn't try to reach out to me again, but I was sort of getting the vibe that he wasn't happy. Not at all. I walked to the door and opened it, but before going through I apologized. He nodded, but his face still looked furious. But that was that and I walked away.

Hey everyone! Sorry for the confusion, but I decided to change the last part. In a review I got a suggestion, and the more I thought about it, well it seemed like the last part needed to change. Hope you all aren't mad at me!!!!


	6. Toothbrushes are dangerous

When I got to my room he had caught up and explained that he was going out for about an hour or so. The mask maker lived outside of Gotham and it would take at the least thirty minutes. He wanted me to come, but he said that he wanted the mask to be a surprise. Like I hadn't had enough surprises since I got here.  
"Sure, what ever boss," I said, "I got to get ready for June." I was about to go inside my room when he cleared his throat. I was going to ignore him, but decided against it.  
"Well, since I'm leaving, you should get the men to respect you,"  
I narrowed my eyes. And replied warily, "And when you say 'respect', you mean not wanting to throttle me right,"  
He hyena laughed, "Of course. I suggest put a knife to one of there throats. The little Bat should do. He really hates you,"  
"That's great to know," I said sarcastically. I knew that the Joker had meant to say 'Rat'. And the fact that he called him something meant that he didn't like Rat.

Rat didn't look easily scared (duh because he looked like a freaking Rat), so the Joker's suggestion about a knife to the neck was a good one. I had surprised the Joker at Thanksgiving with a knife, but I _knew _I could pull it off again. But a different way to do it shouldn't be too difficult. I once again I was about to go into my room when the Joker cleared his _again_. I turned on my heels with my arms crossed and tried to look annoyed. Personally, I couldn't be annoyed with the Joker anymore. He was doing more for me than any guy had done before. How long that would last, well, I wasn't going to test that.  
"Almost forgot this," he said and pulled me into him by my shoulders. He embraced my warmly. I guess he had got the vibe that I wasn't into kissing him. But you never know. The Joker wasn't known for his  
"Don't want to smother my girly when she only been here for two days now do I," he smirked as he pulled back. I rolled my eyes. Now he was treating me like a child. I knew he wasn't that much older than I due to the way his skin was on his face. He probably in his early twenties, but I wasn't going to ask. No point, he might make it up.  
"See you later," I said then backed up into my room and closed the door. I heard him laugh through the door and sighed.  
I began to sort out what I was going to need on the trip to get June. I couldn't use the term 'kidnap'. The word made my stomach gurgle in bad way. And when my stomach gurgled in a bad way, I generally felt like crap and my conscience died a little inside20of me.  
Since I didn't have a proper bag to pack my stuff in, I just used the plastic Pacsun bag that I had. It was fairly big, and if I needed more space, well, i had two more bags. I packed a green tank to p and a black jacket to go over it, a pair of jeans and a pair of p.j's. The p.j's was a pair of long baggy pants, a pair of black girl boxer's, and a grey tank top that had the word tomboy printed across the upper part of it. I was planning to wear the p.j's during the car ride. Gotham was in New York and was at least 12 hours away from Cincinnati. The nicer outfit was for the _getting _(still couldn't convince myself to say kidnap) June. I could careless what the guys thought about how drab I was dressing. I also added a hoodie, just incase it got chilly. I didn't think it should be too bad. It was still November. I goofed off a little with my I-pod as I tried to entertain myself. I flopped myself onto the bed and laid there, imagining a weird scenario with the Irish and a song he was singing last night. Suddenly I felt the need to chew a piece of gum. I don't know why, but I did. And my mouth wasn't minty fresh, with my toothbrush and tooth paste no where to be seen.  
And I remembered I had left it by the sink when I expected the Joker's hand and when that guy barfed in the sink. Hopefully by then the guy was done barfing and the smell had gone. If that person hadn't, well the Joker would have dealt with it on the way out.

I got up and walked to the door, but hesitated when I was about to turn the knob. What if Rat and his buddies were planning something since the Joker was gone. I would be somewhat safe in my room. Somewhat. They could probably break down the door easily. But the Irish and Brutus were on my side. Rat wasn't. And from what Irish implied was that he had followers (why they would follow them is sort of creepy, and dumb). And the way to get the body to crumble is to remove the head. Or well in my case, threaten the head. I couldn't kill the dude. He hadn't done anything to me _yet_. So it had to be know or never.

I pulled open the door and stuck my head out to check if the coast was clear. Confrontation now meant trouble. But no one could be seen, and I could hear them in the main room. I tried my best to keep my cool while walking to the main room. The glass was a dead give away that I was coming. It wasn't like I was going to go unnoticed when I got there. Like the Joker said earlier, I stuck out like a sore thumb. I did here too, being the only girl in the group.

In the main room some of the guys had pulled out a small circular table and were playing a card game. The guy facing me saw me and whispered in the guy's ear next to them. Then every guy was turning to look at me.

"What are you looking at little girl?" asked a bald muscular dude. He looked like he would eat a pro wrestler for breakfast. I shrugged.

"A group of guys playing a card game," I replied nonchalantly. The guy's eye brows furrowed as he spoke, "You being smart with me?"

"No. Just answering the question. What are you guys playing?"

I leaned over a guys shoulder and he hid his cards.

"Hearts," the baldy replied, "You wouldn't be interested."

"And why not? I can play Hearts,"

"You're too little," he growled. I narrowed my eyes.

"Where in the rules of Hearts does it say you have to be a certain size to play? I've been playing since I was little," I retorted.

"Aw come on Turk. Let the Pet play if she wants," another guy said. He wasn't all that big compared to the baldy, who I was guessing name was Turk, but looked like he had had his fair share of fights. Turk scowled, "The pet shouldn't play. She'll ruin the game with girl talk."

"Fine then, _the Pet _will only talk when spoken too," I seethed and everyone (except for Turk) seemed to agree. I pulled up a chair in between two black guys who seemed to never smile at all. Geez they were too serious here. The guy that stood up for me shuffled the deck. And as he did he introduced everyone around the table. His name was Jack, then there was (going at random just as Jack went) Jude, Dorian, Walt, Turk (He glared at Jack when he was introduced), One Eyed Will (he played with his eye that he lost. Egh, it still looked moist), Dom, Wreck (The black dude to my right) and Crash (to my left (and by the names I assumed they were brothers or they chose nicknames for themselves)) and Tim. Tim was the nicest guy in the group and was the only one besides Jack that talked to me.

"So pet, tell us about yourself," Jack said while he dealt. I shrugged.

"Well my name isn't Pet. It's Taylor," I said. They all greeted me like we were in those group therapy sessions for drunken people.

"Um, well, what are you interested in hearing?" I asked, looking around the table. Jack shrugged.

"How about favorite weapon," suggested the guy Dom. I thought.

"Well, um, I haven't had much experience with weapons," all the guys chuckled, "_but _if I was able to use a bazooka that'd be great. Big boom."

They all laughed.

"You'd fly backwards and hurt yourself!" boomed Wreck as he laughed. I smiled. Maybe I could get these guys to lighten up. I picked up my cards to see how well my luck was at the moment. Fairly good. No difficult decisions when it came to what I was going to pass on to Wreck first. He wasn't going to like the fact I going to pass the Queen of Spades to him.

"So what if I do? It'd be fun right?" I asked, smirking slightly.

"Sure, if you get your head split open it'd be a bonus," said Turk. I glared at him, but didn't say anything. I didn't want to start a fight with out having anything to defend myself. I put down my last two cards and slid the three cards to Wreck. I handed my only Diamonds to him too. Rarely did anyone pass Diamonds, and if they popped up in a hand, well, I could dump my highest scoring card on one of them. I loved to off suit myself when it came to Hearts.

Wreck let them sit there as he passed to Dom. I smirked slightly, and Jack was smirking at me as well. I guessed he knew I was doing something that was going to get a reaction from very shortly.

Wreck slowly picked up the cards, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see his lips part.

"Why you little-" he said.

"Ah. Ah. Ah. We don't want to ruin the game now do we?" I asked coyly with out turning my head to him. Everyone around the table was watching Wreck intently. I was enjoying this. Wreck's mouth dropped and his eye's narrowed.

And then Crash slid my new cards over to me. They weren't bad, but they weren't good either. Adding to my hand was an Ace of Clubs, a Jack of Hearts and a King of Hearts. The King could be thrown away quickly when Diamonds popped up and I had plenty of other Hearts if Hearts popped up before Diamonds.

"Alright, everyone get there new cards?" Jack asked. Everyone nodded.

"Okay, who ever has the Two of Clubs starts," he said and leaned back. One Eye Will threw the Two of Clubs down and steadily it went around the table. When it came to me I threw down my Ace of Clubs. I knew I was safe. It was the first hand and the Queen of Spades and Hearts weren't allowed to be played. After that hand, everyone seemed to relax. Other guys began to ask me questions, and even Wreck and Crash were smiling like fools. I won that set, as for a couple more. And when it came to tallying points three sets later, I was the leader with twenty points, and Turk was losing.

Turk was also the party pooper. He'd threaten and scowl and when he found out he was in last place, he stormed into the kitchen. We all laughed.

"That's normal. Turk is always rough and hates to be wrong," Jack explained. What happened next was totally unexpected. A shot rang out and everyone looked to the kitchen door. There was Turk, smiling like no other as if he just killed me. But no, I was safe. No blood and guts spilling out of me. But I did a quick search just to make sure.

"You're wanted in the kitchen girl," he spat on the floor and then walked into the kitchen. I felt my heart beating faster then it had been when the gun had gone off. Hopefully there was barely anyone in there, and who ever wanted me better not be pointing a gun at me.

I got up slowly out of my seat and heard the door to the guys sleeping room open and close. Over my shoulder I could see the Irish standing there, a little groggy, and definitely not happy. I sighed. So much for back up if the time came around.

I slowly walked around the table and Jack, Wreck, Crash and Tim were getting up too. They could be back up if a fight broke out. But I highly doubted it was going to matter. I guess this was the moment of truth. If I was going to survive this place, I was going to need the guys to not want to mess with me. Thoughts raced through my head, like where the knives were located, what the signs were when someone was going to bust the cap, and how I was going to protect my vital areas.

I pushed through the kitchen door warily and poked my head in. Standing there was a couple of guys with Rat at the front with his arms crossed and looking terrible as usual. I found it funny that Rat was the smallest and the most pathetic looking guy in the group. He was only an inch or so taller than me. Which was even worse for his situation. If he pissed off any of his guys, he'd be creamed Rat on the floor. In the back was Turk looming over the rest of the guys. I should have known that he was in the loop with Rat.

"Come on in girl," Rat sneered, the part right of his upper lip rising up into a snarl. I entered in fully and stood there, mimicking his posture.

"First off girl-"

"First off, my name isn't girl or pet. It's Taylor," I retorted glaring at him.

"You'll speak when we allow you too," one of the other ugly brutes said. I glared and spotted my sink toothbrush and tooth paste by the sink where I had left them. Behind I heard other people enter the kitchen and Rat's eyes flared angrily. He probably didn't like the idea that I had gained some friends.

"First off, the Joker said you were going to try to earn my respect while he was out. Not going to happen. Never," he said and spat. I rolled my eyes. The Joker just killed the chance of respect.

"Secondly, I was thinking I could strike a deal, just to make up for the lack of respect, with you if you and I could talk privately. If you accept, my boys and I won't bother you. If you don't, well, Turk really wants to hear you scream right now."

Turk's smile grew larger when we made eye contact. I glared at him and made my decision right then and there.

"No," I said. I could hear the guys behind me shuffling. And an idea popped into my head that had to deal with my toothbrush. I wasn't sure if it would work, but it was worth the shot. If I could get close enough to Rat, and make him angry enough.

"No what?" he spat again. He was a rat. Disgusting and wretched. His eyes grew dark as they narrowed in me direction.

I shrugged, "No to the deal."

"Why not? You haven't even heard what I have to offer yet," he retorted. I walked and picked up my toothbrush. I tossed it to my other hand and back and continued to do this as I walked back to where I had been standing. I considered the names I was going to call him that would make him angry. I wasn't going to use a cuss word. I was sure he was used to those so it wouldn't make a difference. And thinking about his name, I came up with my attack name.

"Because. Because I don't make deal with filthy mice like you," I said. I looked up at him and he was fuming. His face reddened to a deep scarlet and his hands began to twitch like an angry cat's tail would when it was irritated. Turk began to walk forward, but Rat held up a hand and Turk stopped.

"What did you call me?" he asked, his head shaking.

"A filthy mou-" and Rat exploded towards me. I smirked, getting exactly what I was hoping for. I side stepped and tripped him with ease. He went all the way to the ground and I pulled him up by the back of his neck. He squirmed, his skin rubbing against my hands as I held him firm. I pulled out my toothbrush and held it at our eye level. I turned it in my as if I was inspecting it like I would a knife.

"You know," I said darkly, my adrenaline pumping and fueling my wanting to pummel the guy, "there are a lot of things that could be used as tools for harming people." I lifted the toothbrush closer to his face. He looked at me like I had three heads. But hey, so was the rest of the room. No one moved, except for the Irish, whom I thought was still out in the main room.

"For instance, this tooth brush here, can bring pain to who ever I want," I continued. I was enjoying this. The taste of satisfaction and having upper hand was truly delicious. I pushed it slowly into his mouth, the bottom end in first. Slowly, ever so slowly, I kept pushing it back. My mind was focused on what I was doing with the toothbrush that it seemed like everything else around me, the men, the bench, the chairs, the whole room in general, just melted away. It was just me, the tooth brush and Rat. And Rat finally got the idea that I really was threatening him.

There have been times were I have really gotten into what I was doing and seemed to be in this little unbalanced world. Like the time I was learning how to box with that boyfriend that taught me how to fight. I sort of lost control and for a while I was lost in a screwed up little world in my mind as my body did what ever it was it was doing. I just remembered (I didn't even know what had set me off in the first place) a lot of bruises on the guy when I came back to earth. Okay, maybe a little bit more than bruises. He had a pretty bad bloody nose; he spat blood and even had blood coming from both brows. I really couldn't remember what I had done that ripped this guy up so bad. And my knuckles had bloodied up when we were fighting. Except then I wasn't horribly focused on hurting the dude. Here, I was.

My little game (I called it a game since I felt like I was playing around) wasn't about how scared he was or whether he was going fight back. And Rat, he was just like a test subject for this. But I didn't care. I wasn't backing down. I was continuing with my little game. He writhed, but I kept a firm grip on him as I persisted to push it farther back.

Rat began to gag. I didn't care. He twisted even more, but I only shook him until he stopped. His eyes began to roll back, and only then did I let go and pull out the toothbrush. Yeah I was enjoying it, but I wasn't going to kill the guy.

He collapsed to the floor, crumpled face down and gagging for air. I lowered down and pulled up his head up by his hair. His eyes were filled with hatred I had only seen in his eyes. So far I had five enemies, him and his little groupies. I let got and his head fell back down as he tried to recover. I patted his back and set the toothbrush on the ground next to his head.

"You owe me a new toothbrush," I said and stood up. Rat's groupies didn't look all that worried about Rat being on the ground. They must have known as well as I that their s called 'leader' was pathetic. I smirked and walked out. Jack and the others parted and the Irish opened the door for me. The guys on my side followed and were seemingly keeping a distance from me. I sat myself down at the table and laughed.

The sensation that I was feeling at the moment wasn't something I had felt before. My hands tingled with it and my stomach twisted like I had just ate the best meal that I deserved. But I couldn't name it at all.

The Irish sat down next to me and looked like he was going to say something, but wasn't sure if he wanted to say it. I turned my head and looked at my hands as if they were dirty, inspecting for some invisible dirt.

"Well," he began, "that was uh, unexpected."

"How so?" I asked.

"Um, first, you used a toothbrush of all things for a weapon. And you looked somewhat like the Joker did when he was holding a switchblade to Gambol's cheek. Gambol was Wreck's and Crash's mob leader that the Joker killed awhile back if you were wondering."

I scowled, "So you're calling me a psycho?"

"No, just giving you the facts since you probably didn't know yourself. And that's what I think we'll need if you're going to get you to be a better fighter," he said, shrugging and leaning back in his chair, lifting his feet up to the table.

"I think I'll pass. I like who I am. And I know who I am," I replied, "I'm not a killer." His eyebrows raised and smirked as he stuck a toothpick in his mouth. Where he got the toothpick, I didn't care.

"What makes you so sure?" he asked, "You looked like you would have enjoyed choking the life out of him. With your toothbrush."

I sat up and placed a hand on my chest in a somewhat dignified way and saying that I was talking about myself.

"If I was going to kill him, it would have been having someone else doing it, not me. Or I would have left the toothbrush in his mouth, but I didn't"

He laughed, "See! But you have it in you. A true killer would be able to recognize something as a weapon and use it how they envisioned it. And I know little about you, but I did know that you didn't go in there thinking about using a weapon right away like most criminals would. But also you didn't go in there and not have anything planned and just killed them all as soon as they disagreed with them. You have potential to be a skillful ninja."

I got up abruptly, outraged. I was not going to take this. I hate killing people, even if I didn't like them. I prodded him in the chest and flicked him in between the eyes.

"I could careless if I have potential. I. Am. Not. Killing. Anyone." I said through my teeth. I wasn't going to challenge him to a fight. I knew if he _was _in this League of Shadows, then he'd kick my ass. So I straightened back up, and for some weird reason, the Irish was smirking strangely. I glared at him and sat myself in my seat.

"What?" I barked as I kicked his chair. If he didn't drop the subject I was going to go lock myself in my room, and even the Joker wouldn't be allowed to come in.

"And the fact that you were able to threaten him with a tooth brush, well, that's got to count for something. I frowned and stood up. I shook my head and walked off.

All the guys started to yell after me, bribing me with a card game or other sorts of entertainment, but I didn't care. I just kept on walking, pissed off at the Irish. God he was an ass. He wasn't horrible like Rat, and wasn't he irritating and psycho like the Joker was. He was a stuck up tough guy. Like some of the jocks back at school.

Back at my room I looked at my I-pod to see the time. It was four twenty. The time sort of flied today. Granted, I did sort of wake up at ten o'clock and wasn't done with my hair till one, and I had decided to go out and face the guys around two. It still seemed like nothing went on and time just flew by.

I kicked my door close and dug through my drawers for another pair of comfy p.j pants to slip into and fumbled with the IPod a little bit.

I never just let my whole song list just play out when I was in a certain mood. That's what my playlist were for. When I was calm cool and collected, I normally just listened to my dance-able or sleepy Playlist. And when I wasn't in a good mood, well, Rock-It-Out or Hardcore-Mix suit it well. But I wasn't looking for anything specific for once, so I just let my I-pod run.

Time suddenly became really slow while I was lying there on my bed. I tried to think about what I would do when I was going to greet June. I already knew she was going to freak out over my hair. I wouldn't be surprised if she even refused to get in the car with me. I guess I would look very scary to her.

I began to think more along the lines of my family. I wondered what they were doing right now, and whether or not I was really protecting them by staying here, or was I putting them more at risk of getting hurt?

I groaned, annoyed with myself. I rolled over, stuffed my face into a pillow, and groaned again. I was too bored to get up and find something to do, but I was also getting too bored with just sitting. But soon afterwards, my mind drifted off to a strange dream.


	7. A New Deal And not with FDR

"Why do we have to ride in the child molester van?" I asked as Irish slammed the door to van that they had nabbed me in. It made me think of some of the creeps from school and an ice cream truck put together which were very creepy and very disturbing to my thoughts.

"And what makes you think it is a child molester van? There isn't any sign of children being around it. Nor does it look that inviting," he said as he leaned against it. I rolled my eyes.

"You guys kidnapped me in this van, and it's creepy so I can call it what ever I want," I retorted and started to walk back to the door. I really didn't see why I was dragged in here in the first place. One minute the Joker shows up from his room holding a paper bag and the next I'm being dragged out into the garage by the Irish. No reason, and I did not even get bring my stuff out for the car ride to get Abbey.

Noiselessly the Irish surprised me as he blocked the door as I reached for the knob. He grabbed my wrist and I tried to pull away.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"Let go. I'm bored," I growled. I twisted my hand to test his grip, which was like steel since my hand didn't budge all that much. Of course, but I knew what to do. I added a bit of pressure against his thumb twisted in circular motion. A friend of mine had taught me this about a year ago and called it 'The Rule of Thumb,' probably because of the fact of going against the thumb.

Free, I retracted my hand and crossed my arms. I knew it would be useless to try to get passed him so I just leaned against the wall.

"Why am I being trapped in here anyways?" I asked eyeing him.

"Can't say. It's a surprise." He replied making a motion with his hands in a rainbow formation and his fingers stiffly straightened. It didn't amuse me. I wanted out. The garage smelled like oil and dead animals. I went from leaning against the wall to being scrunched up against it with my knees to my chest. It wasn't the most comfortable position ever, but I didn't feel like flopping out my legs to regain circulation.

The Irish opened the door and went through. When it shut I waited for a second and then heard the doorknob click. He had locked me. I sighed. I was still being treated like a prisoner, even after being bond to the contract. I got up and went back to the child molester van and opened it up. It was fairly empty still, besides the bags of stuff –the bags didn't interest me at all- there was enough space for at least five men to spread out, though I know we weren't going to have that many guys with us. Why should we? I mean we were only getting June, not Arnold Schwarzenegger.

I laid back and closed my eyes to relax. I knew that whatever it was that they were going to 'surprise' me with wasn't going to be all that surprising. I knew that most guys aren't very gifted with creativity. And these guys were dunder-heads, especially the bigger guys. No offense to the big guys, but having that much brawn doesn't mean they have the brain power like mine, Joker's or the Irish's. Though they probably had very hard heads.

I felt the van tip slightly and the presence of someone over me. I opened my eyes to see the Joker smiling as he stood over me and his face zoomed down towards mine. I didn't react, heck, I didn't even flinch. He shook his face and made this weird noise as he did. He looked really weird. I couldn't help but laugh.

He grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled my up. He didn't necessarily pull me close to his face, but I could smell a heavy amount of garlic from the omelets I made for the guys for breakfast. I always liked to add garlic powder or onions to mine, and today I taught him how to make his. He just dumped the garlic powder into the bowl.

"You need to brush your teeth," I gagged teasingly. He burped in my face in response, just to annoy me. I craned my head back and kicked him in the shins, which I learned always made him let go. He laughed and said, "Surprise time." I scowled as I followed him out of the garage and through the kitchen.

In the main room all the guys- except Rat's bunch, I heard they had taken off after rat regained consciousness- were standing there in a line facing us. Each of them had their masks on and a different colored paper bag in each hand. I looked to the Joker who was smirking, but his eyes were dark with some kind of dark humor.

"All of these guys have a surprise for you. One of them gets a surprise himself," he said. I looked to the guy on the very end that I guessed was Turk because he was a big muscular white guy whose looked with his hands was going to rip his bag to shreds. Yep, that would be Turk.

The Joker pushed me forward and I stumbled forward from surprise. He seemed in a good mood, but was taking amusement in something dark. The Irish brought a chair for me to sit in and I sat down facing the guys. I noticed that a lot of them were uneasy. I would be too, especially if it looked like the Joker had something up his sleeve. Like a little kid, the Joker always had something creepy up his sleeve. It could be scary like a spider –which I'm not scared of, just an example-, or funny/ gross like a frog. Either way, neither were good if it came from the Joker.

I sat and each guy came forward with his bag. I reached in each of them and received something from each. Most of them were weapons. Most of the surprises were silenced handguns and daggers and the Joker promised each time to teach me how to throw the daggers. I never imagined the Joker capable of throwing daggers, nor did I imagine him using it as an option of killing someone. Though he already killed two people that way, it still never registered in my mind. I was sure that he liked to be as close as possible to the victim to make it feel more personal.

Finally the end of the line was in front of me, and I could tell that Turk was nervous. His palms were sweaty and the neck of shirt was beginning to dampen. I was aware he probably knew what was going to happen. Both he and I knew that he was the one that the Joker had a surprise for him.

He stepped forward and handed me the bag. His hands shook with anxiety and I tried to keep a blank face. He may have been a big tough guy that seemed to hate me last night, but I couldn't help sympathize for him now. He was truly afraid of dying right now. I would be too, since the Joker's way of killing someone was never pleasant. I reached into the bag and felt around. At the very right corner I felt a piece of paper, and slowly brought it out.

The piece of paper was folded only once and I opened it up to read it. In the Joker's scrawling hand writing it said:

You want to hurt my fox. You're turn to die. Ha ha ha.

J.

I crumpled it up and looked at the Joker who eyes was intensely watching me and seemed waiting for me to do something. I looked up at Turk and then back down at my hand. I held the paper loosely and stared at it, hoping it would just burn in my hand. But of course, I'm not capable of this action.

As you know, I really don't like killing people, or watch people be killed in front of me. Sure I can watch movies with a ton of gore and read books that describe the process, but that's a whole different story. I know that those people aren't really dead, and the blood isn't real.

Even though Turk wished to harm me, I still wasn't able to kill him. I'm merciful when others would take revenge, compassionate while others would show hatred. I could watch or do harm to this guy. Maybe I could make a deal with him.

My only problem would be the Joker. He would not be easily swooned by my words. I was messing with his game. But in this game there were no rules, and with out rules I could do what ever I wanted, just like how the Joker did what he wanted.

I tightened my grip on the paper and threw it over my shoulder. I stood up and gestured for him to sit down. Behind the mask, I could see his eyes look at me warily, a bit untrusting. But he sat downs anyways after quickly glancing at the Joker. He sat down slowly keeping his eyes on me. I dragged another chair in front of him and sat forward resting my elbows on my knees.

"Do you want to know what the note said?" I asked, "or do you already know what it said?"

He fidgeted slightly and replied, "I already know."

"Great, no need for me to explain all that much,"

I stood up and his eyes slightly widened, as if he knew what was coming. I circled my chair and put my hands on the back of it.

"I'm not going to kill you," I said and everyone began to argue. I dismissed the noise and looked Turk straight in the eyes, and let the corners of my

"**But**," I said, "I want to make a deal. If you don't want to, then well, you know." I jerked my head towards the Joker. Turk nodded and I smiled at the Joker, but my smile disappeared quickly. The Joker was standing there, fuming. I swore fire and steam would come out of his ears in any given time. I had just ruined his fun.

"You are not going to have anything to do with Rat" I said, and Turk's mouth opened with protest, "And you'll do special errands for me. They won't be horribly destructive to your ego. If you don't agree, go on ahead."

I swept my arms towards the Joker, like I was presenting him. I made the mistake of looking at the Joker, in the face. The look sent shivers down my spine in waves of horror. He looked absolutely disgusting. I gulped slowly, hoping my nervousness did show through. If a person ever said that someone looked cute when they got angry, then right then no one would have been able to say that about him.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Gaining an advantage. It'll help me in the long run. Besides, who said I couldn't do this? No one," I said and stuck out my tongue at him. Not the smartest of things I could have done at the moment, but the Joker didn't rebuke to my reasoning. I knew what I was doing. I was going to make myself a body guard till I didn't need to worry about needing one.

"I accept." Turk said. I could tell from the low volume of his voice that he wasn't liking this idea, but liked it over death. I laughed, "Sorry if this is embarrassing, but its better than your other choice."

Turk sighed and turned to leave, but I wasn't done. His word wasn't enough. I knew going through his mind that if I just kept him to his word he would break it as soon as he got me alone. I needed everything down in writing. With terms and maybe a Blood Limit.

A blood limit in my way is making a contract, signing it, biting the thumb to break the skin for blood and press it onto the paper. That way they were constricted to me. In elementary school we did it a lot, just not for anything serious and it was only amongst my little group of friends.

"Where do you think you're going? We're not done," I said and asked the Irish for a pen and paper. While he was doing that I dragged the table over and I knew everyone was questioning what I was doing. But the Joker seemed to know. He had already made one with me, yet not all of what I was about to do. The Joker's expression had slacked a little. His eyes weren't on fire anymore and his fists weren't clenched anymore. I was somewhat relieved but not fully at ease. I had to do this contract right and if I did something that didn't please him. The wording was going to have to be a certain way.

The Irish set the pen and paper down on the table and backed away. I smoothed it out and began writing.

On this day I hereby sentence Turk to be my personal assistant and body guard until I have no further use of him. He will run errands for personal items for me, protect me while I still train and will protect June. Even though he is under my command Turk shall follow any overriding command given by the Irish and the Joker.

If Turk shall fail to follow orders or fail to complete a task that was direly needed, in which I shall rank each of these assignments to guide him and keep him alive, the Joker will be able to serve punishment that suits it. But that punishment needs to be approved by me.

Also Turk is now to break all ties he has with Rat. No longer is he to speak to Rat except when I am beside him, nor is he allowed consulting Rat outside of this facility. If this is part of the contract is broken the punishment is death. The death will be dealt at the Joker's mercy.

Taylor Larson Turk

I signed and allowed the Joker to read it through and he didn't grumble. He smiled at I'm guessing the Joker's mercy part which made me fully at ease. I gestured for Turk to come over and he read it over. He didn't seem to take it well and I could see rage building in his eyes, but he didn't grumble either. He snatched the pen and signed. I smirked and bit my thumb hard enough till a small bead of blood came to the surface. I slid the paper out of his hands and pressed it down under my signature. Turk did the same, with an uneasiness of a little boy, and handed the paper over to me. I rolled it up and handed it to the Joker.

"You're the higher authority. You get to keep the document for safe keeping," I explained and sat myself onto the table. He handed the paper to the Irish who disappeared down the hallway to probably the Joker's hallway.

"You can retire now," I said to Turk, "I'll need you tomorrow. Consider this your last day of freedom." He scowled and walked out of the room. I sat back down in my chair and took a deep breath. My sudden thoughts had worked out without raising an up roar.

"One more Taylor. This one is from me," the Joker said and he snapped his fingers. One of the clowns came forward with a box wrapped in deep blue wrapping paper with a white bow on the top. I already knew what it was since the Joker had made it obvious earlier yesterday that he went to go get my mask and none of the clowns had given me it in their paper bags.

I opened it slowly from reluctance of seeing this gift and finally the Joker got annoyed enough with my casualness that he ripped open the box for me.

"So much for saving the wrapping the paper," I scowled and put my hand in the tissue paper. I dug in until I hit something ceramic. I pulled it out to find a plain white mask that looked like, surprise surprise, a fox. It had the ears and a snout of a fox along with little whiskers. Instead of already carved in eyes, there were two openings for me to see.

"Wow. What a surprise. A fox. Who would have guessed," I sarcastically droned. The joker laughed, "Of course." I stood up and put it on my face. It fit pretty well which was a shocker. All it needed was for me to paint it. I stepped forward and around the Joker and passed all the men to my room. He began to bark orders to the men and began to follow me. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and asked me if I liked.

"Sure. If I was obsessed with foxes then I'd enjoy it even more,"

"You aren't. But you'll like it over time. Fox will like it especially," he replied slyly. I grimaced. The Fox talk and ranting was starting to get really old. I knew he was psychotic, but I know that the Fox didn't exist. Never has, never will. When we got to my room he continued down the hall which made me happier. I didn't want to be in the room with him alone. He was still a man just as he was still a psycho.

I closed the door behind me, set the mask on the desk and turned on my I-pod. It started on the song "Mama" by My Chemical Romance. They were and interesting band. Good beat, good guitar, good singing, just very weird lyrics sometimes.

I pulled out the art set I had bought the day before and brought it to the desk. Opening it up I found a vast variety of colors in the paint section. From the deep blues to the fiery reds. There were so many colors and for such a low price. I began working on the base coat with a fiery orange. The brushes were fine and silky and made a very smooth layer. As I waited for the base to dry I picked out the other paints and picked out the thinnest brush and the third thinnest brush out of nine widths for brushes. I was going to use black paint with the medium brush on the nose and the tips of the ears. Then I'd use black with the thinnest brush for whiskers. Then with the medium I'll put white around the snout and add some subtle red streaks to the base. All of this took about forty-five minutes. In the end I was proud of it in a way. Not like I was enjoying the fact that I was going to be a masked criminal pretty soon, but that I created a piece of art amongst all this chaotic mess I've gotten myself into. I treasured the serenity of the silence I was in.

Crash!

Bang Bang!

Pop pop pop!

I sighed. Of course something had to go down as soon as I realized I was in peace. Suddenly my door burst open after frequent popping on my door and the Irish somersaulted into my room and fired out the door with his gun. I ducked underneath my desk and cursed on the top of my lungs. The Irish smirked at me and fired some more. He threw down his gun and wiped his brow with his sleeve and stood up.

"Well that was fun," he panted. He chuckled and walked out. But I wasn't going to let that be the end of it.

"What the hell were you guys doing?" I yelled. He stuck his head back in and replied, "Paintball."

I scrambled out from underneath my desk and burst of my room. As soon as I grabbed my door I felt wet underneath my hands. I lifted them up to find sticky yellow splat on my door. I clenched my fist as I found more broken paintballs on my door. I glowered at the Irish who had slowly sat himself across from Wreck and Crash in the hallway towards the Joker's abode. They were snickering and laughing about the havoc they had just created. I looked my door up and down again. It didn't look that bad. I shrugged, still somewhat angered by what they did, but I didn't care for a ruckus.

I went back into my room and inspected the mask. The smile on the Fox was somewhat devious and made me wonder if that's how others saw me. At home I was somewhat of a rule breaker when it came to pranks. Harmless pranks were my specialty. And then I got an idea. I went back to the hall way and made my way to Wreck, Crash and the Irish. They looked at me suspiciously as I made my way towards them. They were probably wondering why I didn't look mad. I sat down in the middle of the hall way and looked at each of the guys guns.

"What are you doing?" Wreck asked.

"Deciding which gun I'd like to test out."

"No way. You're not using our guns. Besides you don't know how to use it," scoffed Crash.

"I sort of do. Besides, I'm thinking I want to do the same thing you did to my door to the Joker's door," I replied coyly.

"Sure," the Irish said and smirked impishly, "It was the boss's idea in the first place."

"Really now? How am I not surprised," I said. I stood up and the Irish handed me a small hand gun.

"These are real guns. Just they've been modified so that the barrels are big enough for paint balls. Have you ever shot one before?"

"Nope. But now is probably better than any other time to learn."

The Irish showed me how to turn off the safety and to reload and ya-da-ya-da-ya-da and finally I was off to go for some "target practice". When we reached the double doors to the staircase the Irish, Wreck and Crash didn't want to go any farther. They didn't like going back this far for some odd reason that they wouldn't tell me. I shrugged it off and somehow got the nerve to keep going.

Going up the stairs was nerve wracking as I slowly made my way up. I was planning on doing this like a hit and run. I didn't think the Joker would be happy to see that his precious quarters' doors were shot with paint so the best way was to run as soon as I got a couple shots in. And as I was formulating a plan a huge thing came from up the stair case.

In middle school and high school it was always a great and hilarious thing to drop a pencil down the stair well. And now that something big was coming down the stairs, it didn't seem so funny anymore. I looked up to see a made up scarred face staring down at me and I awkwardly waved. He looked at me with confusion and I shuffled backwards until I hit the wall.

"I'm coming girly!" I heard him yell with glee.

_Great. I can't let him see the paint gun._ I thought and then, then I panicked. I didn't have anything to hide it in, and nor did I have anywhere to hide it. I groaned.

"Is everything alright?"

I looked up and he was standing over me smiling. I threw my hands behind my back and nodded.

"You know what girly? You're a bad liar," He reached down and jiggled my arm. I sighed and pulled out the paint gun. He laughed and tisk tisked me.

"I was wanting to prank you. Like the guys said you made them do to me," I explained. He smiled, "Prank?"

"Um, yeah. You know. A joke? Funny? Ha ha?"

"I know what a prank is. But I had nothing to do with a prank. I've been up here. Alone," he smiled. I narrowed my eyes.

"Sooo, the Irish made up a story to get himself out of trouble for shooting my door and bursting into my room."

"Yep. I guess so," he replied and started down the steps again with a little weird hop to his continuation. I sighed. Men. There was nothing I was able to do about it anyways. I walked slowly after him and he kept talking and talking. I think he was talking to himself because he didn't turn around to me or direct a question to me. He just kept going and going. At the bottom of the steps he finally did include me in his conversation as he picked up the bag of what must have been clothing for the trip (though they were probably more suits), which I found out was going over the pros and cons of going to _get _Abbey. And for some reason, the Joker was being very easily persuaded. Everything I said he took in consideration.

"You're very agreeable today," I said. He smiled and put an arm around my shoulder.

"Because you actually tried to shoot with a gun,"

"Yes but it's a paintball gun. Modified from the real version. You would have only gotten paint on your door. Big whoop,"

"Are you sure girly?" he asked deviously. I shrugged and handed him the gun. He inspected and laughed, "Did who ever give this gun shoot it?"

I shook my head. The Irish didn't shoot the gun. He had just showed me the things and skipped the demonstration.

BANG! The Joker shot the gun at the wall leaving a hole about the width of my thumb. My mouth dropped.

"Bu-, but they said they were modified to shoot paintball guns!" I exclaimed. The Joker laughed.

"You seem more dangerous when you don't know what you're doing. But aren't we all."

He dropped the gun and continued on his way. I stared down at the weapon as it lay there useless. I could have done some damage let alone hurt someone. I would have really been in trouble if I had shot the Joker. He would have probably gone berserk and killed me on the spot.

"Coming girly?" He asked and smiled. I was starting to get used to his face, even though he was still really creepy when he smiled. I nodded and told him about how I really didn't know and that I was duped. But he still wasn't showing any signs of outrage. When we reached my room and picked up my gear for the car and the Joker inspected my mask.

"It's very much how I imagined it," he said, "very real and smug."

"Of course it looks smug. Who ever made it made it smile. When a fox smiles it looks as smug as it would after eating a rabbit," I replied. I grabbed my bag and took the mask and placed it in my bag. I was careful with the mask. I didn't say that I shoved it in the bag. I placed it in the bag. Nicely.

"Well then. Shall we go get June? Or are we just going to sit here and do nothing I said as I leaned over his shoulder as he sat at my desk. He was looking at one of my photos from the wall. He swiveled around in the chair and looked me in the eye.

"Hmmm. I don't think we do nothing," he said and his eyes flickered towards the bed. I knew what he was thinking. I scoffed and flicked him in between the eyes.

"No. Not ever," I said and reached the door. Around my waist he tugged my sides back onto his lap. Which was awkward. Only slightly. With one hand he rubbed my upper arm and the other he moved the hair away from my ear.

"Sooner than you think Taylor. Not yet. I'm behaving for you," he whispered and blew into my ear, "for you."

I shivered from him blowing in my ear and as he moved that hand and rubbed the nape of my neck. It would have felt better if he had smoother hands.

"You don't seem to like my hands," he mused.

"They need lotion-ing up," I replied.

"That sounds naughty," he laughed and wrapped both of his arms around me. I let my arms hang and waited for him to be over with this little cutesy mood. Knowing him he would be done in about five minutes and would possibly satisfied for a while. Behind me he put his forehead into my back and growled.

"Would it hurt to try to return some of the emotions I'm putting into this? I'm a very busy man and you're just wasting my time sitting here like a dead person. I'm really holding back from hitting you, but that would make it worse if I did. I know it would 'cuz I know. I know with you. You'd lock yourself up even more and I'd never get you the way I want you."

I broke away from his arms and bent till I was I level with him with my hands on my hips.

"And how would you like me? Hmmm? Fake and being something else I'm not. Be a sleeze and be no use to you? Be that stupid Fox you keep ranting on about? Sorry bub but I'm Taylor! You made the mistake thinking you'd change me," I retorted and slammed my hand on the desk. He grabbed the back of my head and the collar of my shirt.

"You. Don't. Yell at me. You don't. slam things. I am keeping you as happy as I can. Stop being so serious." He said through gritted teeth and shoved me backwards. I slammed against the door and hit the back of my head. I slid down to a sitting position and drew my knees up to my chest. He stood up over me and squatted with his face close to mine. I groaned and rubbed the back of my head. It throbbed, feeling as if my heart was beating on it. He rubbed my cheek with the back of his fingers and smiled.

"If I have to keep doing this till I get it through to you then I'll keep doing it. Is that how you want me to be? More of a freak than I am? Hmmm?" he said and I slowly shook my head. He smiled and helped me up. He moved the hair on my cheek and kissed it. Looking into my eyes he took my hand and rubbed my hand against his cheek. I didn't want to say anything more in fear of another violent strike from him.

"You're right. Smooth hands feel so good," he mused and kissed my palm and then pulled me in close. I looked down away from his face and felt my eyes get a little watery. Out of the three days so far this was the first time I truly felt scared. I knew in the future I was going to be forced into things I wasn't ever going to want to do and I knew that if I didn't do something I would be brutalized.

He wiped away a tiny crystal tear away from my cheek and tilted my head up to look up at him.

"Shhhh. Don't cry girly. I'm sorry. Don't cry," he cooed and kissed my lips. I couldn't help but let the tears go. It was unfair that I was to be this way the rest of my life. Unfair that I was dragging June into this. Unfair that I couldn't hold back these stupid tears. He pulled me tighter against me and I buried my face into his chest. He patted my back and I just kept streaming, and streaming, and streaming. I hadn't cried like I did in his arms for a long time. I think it was when there was a problem within the family. Though this was more of a problem than a slow decline in money. I was hugging a villain with a PMS-ing woman's mood swings.

"Just keep crying girly. Just keep crying," he cooed. I pulled my head back sniffling. He was smirking with a soft gleam in his eye. As if he was enjoying the fact that he was comforting me in a way. I shook away the tears that were left and narrowed my eyes.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" I asked. He chuckled and nodded.

"I feel better about myself thinking that I'm a good man comforting you after a horrible day at work. But we both know that my spunky girly doesn't cry over little things like that do we now?"

"No I don't. Especially since-"

He put a finger to my lips and shushed me. He swiveled in front of me and held an arm back to keep me behind him and pulled out a thick knife from inside his jacket. I heard some scuffling from behind my door and when I blinked, there was a knife going through it along with a yell. My poor door. First it was shot with paintball guns and now it had a knife thrown through it.

There was a thump and grunt from who ever was on the other side of the door. I dodged around the Joker and opened the door. There at my feet was sitting Jack with his eyes opened wide as if he just had seen the white light of heaven, though I doubt with his criminal activity he was going to end up there.

He groaned and feel backwards. I kneeled by his abdomen and inspected to find any injuries. There were none. The only thing he was going to suffer was shock. I tapped his forehead and he blinked. I looked at the Joker and shrugged.

"Is he dead?" he asked. I shook my head.

"No. But thanks to you he got a near death experience without getting into a fight. Poor Jack," I replied and tugged on his ear. I blinked again and decided he'd snap out of it in his own good time. The Joker broke out into his hyena laugh and slid off his shoe. He smelled it and made a face. I caught his drift.

"A good stink will get him up," he laughed.

"That. Is gross. Poor Jack," I said as I pinched my nose shut. I hoped I never had to smell the Joker's shoes. Bleh.

He leaned down over Jack and held the opening of his shoe right under the nose. I waited for a second and sooner than I expected Jack blinked several times. Then his nose flared. And then he up chucked right as he rolled over onto his side. Right then and there I pulled the Joker back and kneeled next to Jack and held the hair out of his face.

"You're sick you know that?" I asked. The Joker laughed.

"It got him up didn't it?"

"But he's puking all over the floor!"  
"And he'll clean it up,"

"So! It's horrible!"

"Horrible. Hmmmm. I've heard that before,"

"Of course you have!"

As soon as Jack stopped puking I helped him stand up and lean against the wall. His face was pale from the effort of the hauling up the insides of his stomach and his legs wobbly as I helped up stay on his feet.

He kept stammering as he talked and was very hard to get him to calm down. We finally got him to say that he'll clean it up and I scowled. Every one was too afraid of the Joker and it was starting to annoy me. I let go of Jack and he slumped down against the wall. I didn't want to hear him stammer anymore. I walked into my room and grabbed my stuff. I wanted to leave. The Joker was getting everything his way. It was my turn to get it the way I wanted. I wanted and needed June badly. And we were going to get her. _Now._


End file.
